I guess my beginnings start around 2 weeks after my 18th birthday on a quiet ranch in sunny Southern California.
I say "quiet", but really on that morning I was awoken by my older brother's thundering footsteps, a door swinging open and a sudden weight on top of me yelling for me to "get the hell up before you miss your damn bus!".I won't mention any names of my family members, they're part of my old life's story, not the Outlaw's.
Of course, I was running late today of all days.
I tried to be funny by hitting my brother repeatedly on the face with the whole "where's the snooze button?" gag. I got slapped.
Great, I was gonna arrive in the city of dreams with a huge, red hand mark on my cheek. Just my luck I guess.The rest of my family were already awake and going about their business in the kitchen. I decided to leave them to it, there would be time for goodbyes once I was finished packing. Plus breakfast isn't really as important as everyone says it is, right?
I shoved my brother off me and quickly ran down the hall to the bathroom for the quickest shower of my life. I swear I was in there for less than 5 minutes. I quickly dried my hair and got dressed, jogging back to my childhood bedroom.
Our house was real nice, if you can think of one of those classic country houses that you see in the movies with a happy family living inside it, you got our house.
The house itself was painted white and yellow, and I guess that reflected the family's happy-go-lucky attitude. It real was a nice place.Y'know when you're cleaning your room out as a kid you find all this stuff you forgot you had? Yeah, that was happening. Except, instead of cool McDonald's toys and little gadgets, it was more like missing socks, old movies and the occasional, ahem, unopened condom.
I looked at the suitcase and duffle bag lying empty on my floor, and tried to decide what was absolutely 100% necessary to bring with me. Of course, my precious cowboy boots and hat had their own reserved place, like I would ever leave them!
After stuffing some clothes around my prized leather friends (the hat and boots you little perv) as a means of protection, I picked up both bags, looked around for a final time, and walked out, closing the door behind me.
I clumped down the stairs in a pair of older, less "flashy" boots and dumped my bags by the door. I followed the smell of a heavenly frying pan into the kitchen, to see my mom, dad, and brother sitting around the table waiting for me.
Yeah, we were one of those families who followed the "don't eat till everybody's seated" polices. It was nice though, even though my brother looked slightly pissed at how long he'd been waiting.I took my seat at the table and smiled down at the plate in front of me. My mom had made me a "smiley face" breakfast like she would do when I was a kid; eggs for eyes, toast for nose and ears, and bacon for the mouth, eyebrows and hair.
I thanked my family for waiting and we began to eat.
"So," said my brother as he took the biggest damn mouthful of bacon in the world, "what'cha planning on doing once you get to the big city?"
I rolled my eyes. "Art college. I told you I got a scholarship in the spring, remember?"
"Oh, so nothing else?" He raised his eyebrow.
"Dad can I slap him? He slapped me, look!" I pointed at my cheek defensively, but by the innocent offended face my brother gave my dad, I guess it had already faded.
He smiled and shook his head, "Just eat your breakfast boys, make it a nice one for your mom, eh?"
I looked across at my mom, who had a brave smile on her face but I could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes.
"Oh mom..." I said, a pang of guilt coming over me, "I'm not leaving forever! I'll come back and visit, and of course I'll write to you.". I tried my best to give a genuine smile, but it's always difficult seeing your own mother cry.
We finished our breakfast and chatted for a while. We reminisced about the "good ol' times" until the sound of a horn brought an abrupt end to our trip down memory lane.
I returned to my bags at the door, my family following. We stood on the porch and quickly exchanged our goodbyes.As I walked down the path toward the yellow school bus (classy, I know), I heard my brother, in his best hillbilly voice, shout "An outlaw in the big city, who'd have thunk it? Ah-hee-hee-hee!"
I laughed and shook my head, boarding the bus. I took a seat at the window and waved goodbye to my smiling family. Sure, I'd miss them a lot, but I always knew I'd never stay in the country forever.
My home eventually disappeared behind the horizon, like a mirage in the hot Californian desert. I looked down at the slip of paper in my hand; a time table for my day. This bus would take me into town, where I'd walk to the bus station and board another bus to the train station. I'd get a train to another bus station, board that bus and eventually arrive in the city of dreams; Los Angeles. From there, I'd make my way to the Art College and settle into my dorm. Complicated, I know. But I didn't have the money for an airplane ticket, so it was the best I could do.
I settled back into my seat and watch the fields of wheat, cattle and horses go by. I know I told my family I'd be back, but I think we all knew that wasn't gonna happen.
And it felt good.
YOU ARE READING
The Outlaw
General FictionMy name is The Outlaw. That's all you need to know about me. This story will tell you the rest. I protect Gotham City alongside my dear friend BatmAndy. Follow my journey from my humble country beginnings, and through the craziest adventures of my l...