Heart of Georgia

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

I sat at the kitchen table, tracing the grooves in the wood while my dad made breakfast. The smell of sizzling bacon made my stomach rumble.

"So, uh, you got any plans for tonight?" he asked as he set a plate down in front of me.

I frowned. "Yeah. I'm going to a bonfire with Shelby and all them," I said, biting into a piece of bacon.

"Well that's good then," he said

"Mhm."

"You look pretty tired this morning. Something wrong?" He asked. I felt my face get hot. I thought the bags under my eyes wouldn't be that noticeable.

"I'm okay, I just didn't sleep well," I said nonchalantly.

"More nightmares?"

"Yeah." I wasn't lying. I was having nightmares all night. They weren't as bad as the one from the previous night, but they had me waking up in a cold sweat every few hours. It wasn't so much the lack of sleep that made me tired, I was just mentally drained. My past seemed set on clawing to the surface of my mind as much as possible, and it was exhausting me.

When I finished eating, I dragged myself out of my chair and headed outside. As soon as I opened the door, a wall of sticky heat slammed into me. I usually embraced the Georgia warmth, but today it just felt stifling.

I walked into the barn and realized that I was earlier than usual when I looked at the dusty clock on the wall. Not sure what barn work Luke would want me to do today, I decided to explore instead. I climbed up the wooden ladder built into the wall that led up into the hayloft. The air was stuffy with dust, and it felt about 10 degrees hotter than it was below.

I weaved my way through stacks of hay bales until I reached a section in the back of the loft that was full of junk. There were old tires, random pieces of machinery, old horse tack, broken furniture, and lots of boxes. I poked around in the mess of random objects, trying not to trip over anything. Some of the stuff looked like it had been sitting here for decades gathering dust.

I came across two flat, black boxes and smiled, knowing instantly what they contained. I opened one and found my dad's old compound bow inside of it, along with a bunch of arrows. I used to shoot it all the time when I was younger, and even won a youth shooting competition. Not long before I moved away, my dad had taken me hunting with it and I killed my first deer. I had felt so bad afterwards that I never wanted to hunt again.

After digging around in some boxes, I found a couple faded paper targets. I took them and grabbed the bow and arrows, making my way out of the hay loft. I walked outside of the barn to find Wyatt and Shelby walking across the back yard toward me.

"Hey," Shelby said when they reached me. She gestured to the bow in my hand. "What are you up to?"

"I thought I would do some shooting," I said, grinning.

Wyatt smiled. "Got another one of those?" he asked.

"Yeah, up in the hayloft," I said.

He took off at a jog into the barn, no doubt excited to shoot things with a bow. Typical country boy.

"Where's Luke?" I asked Shelby as I made my way into the barn to grab the two hay bales that were sitting against the wall in the aisle.

"He's in the house talking to your dad," she said as we each grabbed hold of two hay bales and began dragging them behind us.

I groaned. "And I was hoping he wouldn't show up today," I grumbled as I struggled with the weight.

We dragged the bales around to the side of the barn and stacked them against the wall. I secured the paper bulls-eye on the front of the hay with twine, making a perfect target to shoot at.