Cause of Death: Desolation

Introduction to the Psychological Void of Dakota Tyler

There is not one thing the world can offer us at any point that is better than the sensation of freedom. To be free is not the same as being liberated, because you're still in someone's debt. The sweaty underbelly of America knows this and no one knows it better than the Tyler family.

They're full of incest and failures, although I guess you could say that incest is a failure of nature and society all at once. They call themselves the most noble of the creetins of Kansas because Grandpa Mike went ahead and started a car dealership that followed him six-feet underground because of his incompetent son. The Tylers use this six year reign as an excuse for them to be adored by every other country bumpkin family within 50 miles. But no one really gives a shit.

Dad was the failure type of Tyler. He was a jobless corn turd that drank fifty dollar beer and blamed his kid for not helping out around the house and slapped his wife's ass in front of the little cousins. A balding ginger that was beginning to physically embody his spirit animal: a mediocre clown at best and a dead muskrat at worst. Mosquitos were more useful than him, at least they kept you on your toes and had a punishment that was either uncomfortable or deadly. He gave the name to Fox Feet.

Fox Feet prefered that over literally any other nickname, Dad called them that because they barely put any weight into their walking, like they were sneaking around. Always. A fox tryna hide from the hunters. If you want literary depth, they would say it's accurate. Any nickname from the rest of the family would be a creative string of slurs that Fox Feet's moral compass forbids them to repeat. The only good thing Mama did was raise them to respect others and forgive as Jesus would. Unless that person was a faggot. Then they can burn in the pit of Satan's blazing bonfire where he roasts the queers and eats them like grapes. Fox Feet isn't sure of the accuracy of that statement. Satan didn't need to eat.

Fox Feet, Dad and Mama lived with Dad's sister, Auntie, who was a result of his mom getting too excited on Christmas with cousin Ed. Fox Feet calls her Auntie Fat Lip but never out loud otherwise they'd have to face the wrath of her fat fucking lips spewing out wannabe white Jesus nonsense like a cat screaming for its dinner. You can either throw the cat outside or submit to it's demands and since Auntie's lips weren't the only fat on her body, Fox Feet tunes her out by thinking of creative ways to tie corn stems together into a noose to hang themselves with.

Auntie has a son named River, Fox Feet's cousin and the only Tyler that still uses his real name. Despite his parents, he has a unique beauty to him. Strawberry blond hair that cowlicks in just the right places, a pleasantly crooked smile and green eyes that shine like Fox Feet's. He was happy all the time, especially when he got to hang out with his little cousin. He would take Fox Feet out into the fields and show them how to tie stems and grass together to make corn scepters and flower crowns.

"Go ahead and try it, Kota!" He'd unweave his own crown and hand it to them. "It ain't that hard, just tie 'em together instead of one at a time!"

"What if it rips?"

"That's alright! Look around!" He'd spin in the field. "We got all the grass in the world to practice on!"

"I don't think high school kids do this kinda thing..."

"Well, you got one more year before you're a high school kid!" He laughed. "Make the best of it. Besides, as long as Ma still calls me her baby, I'll take it over 'sir' any day!"

Fox Feet wasn't much of a smiler, River did that enough for the both of them, but somethin' about being kids forever sparked a twitch in their face muscles.

"Ya know somethin', River?"

"What?"

"We live in a shitty cubby hole," Fox Feet hid their eyes with their hair. "Like mice in a trap, we can't get out unless we get some help."