Once Upon a Time (Editing)

Chapter One--Jay

Trees towered above me, their limbs waving wildly in the gusts of wind. I could hear gunshots from the other side of the grove of tall plants. I walked slowly, quietly through towards the sounds of battle. Only when I heard a shrill scream echo through the stillness, did I start running.

Slipping between tree trunks and leaping over low growing plants, I made my way towards the low moaning and rising sound of shouts accompanied by more gunfire.

I burst out of the little grove, my bow in one hand, and an arrow in the other. Sheltering behind a giant rock, I load my bow. Peaking around the side, I take in the scene playing in front of me.

A government general is standing on one side of the farm ground with a dozen or so men.  He stands, head raise and shoulders back, with authority. His dark blue slacks were covered on the right leg in blood from the knee down, while his freshly pressed matching coat was unchanged, over his white shirt.

The men on the other side of the field were farmers, dressed in dirt covered overalls and shirts. They all stand in a circle around one of their grieving men. As I watched, he stumbles over to the side of the field.

A little cabin is set off to the side opposite of me, where the man was headed. A young woman maybe in her early twenties had crumpled to the ground, blood trickling from a hole in her chest to add to the puddle around her.

I could hear laughter come from the uniformed men, and shouts of anger from the farmers. A couple more shouts rang out. No one fell dead, but a few, on both sides, stumbled from minor wounds.

I walked out from behind my boulder, keeping both sides in sight, ready to shoot.

“Get outa here!” One of the farm men yelled at me. “This is no place for little girls!”

 All firing stopped as the men looked over at the “little girl”. I lowered my bow away from my face, pointing it down, but still ready to shoot if needed.

“You need to stop fighting,” I said, looking from one person to the next. “Nothing good will come from killing each other.”

The general laughed, the noise echoing through the silence. “And what does a child, let alone a little girl, know about war?”

“I know enough. I know that it’s awful, and that hundreds of people die, maybe more. That’s why you need to stop fighting right now.” I lock my gaze with his.

“Oh, really? I have direct orders to take anyone into custody that doesn’t pay their taxes.” The man gestured to the house where the woman lay. “And they didn’t pay, and refused custody.”

“And that gave you the right to shoot?” I yell, taking a step forward, closer to the army men. “That young lady is dead! And you shot her!” I turn back to face the farmers. All their eyes are locked on me, but mine are locked on the glazed ones of the woman. “There are other ways to do things. Violence is never the answer.”

I turn back just as a shot rings out across the field. A cold metal bullet slid past my head, grazing my left cheek. I could feel hot sticky blood dripping down my cheek and onto my shoulder. Putting my hand over the cut, I looked at the general, who was reloading his gun.

“This time I won’t miss,” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Before he could shoot, an arrow lodged into his neck. He looked at me in surprise before falling to the ground. I stumbled backwards, dropping my bow on the ground. I was just as surprised at the dead general. I don’t remember raising the bow, or taking aim and loosing the arrow.

I put my hand on my cheek, finding more sticky blood. In fact, there was a long scratch, deep, and surrounded with bloody skin. Feeling some one’s hand on my shoulder, I turned around shocked to find one of the farmers, most likely just a farm hand, had come over.