song ;;
shot me down
david guetta ft. skylar grey
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adventure story ;;
she had been just a child when she caught her first glimpse of a gun. it had been a small revolver of some sort, the kind that could be tucked into one's waistband or hidden in one's jacket pocket. weak as far as gun's go, perhaps not even strong enough to bring a horse to it's knees. but it had been a gun nonetheless. and she had seen it. and from that moment onwards, she saw more guns than she could ever have imagined.
she had heard of gun's of course. everyone in the west knew of them. most all men owned one. her neighbors both had guns, riffles and shotguns and pistols and who knows what else. she'd heard them going off at random; the rapid fire of target practice, the slow precise firing that came with hunting, the short violent ring that came with defending one's household. but never until that day had she seen one. her mother had forbidden it -- jessamine wasn't allowed to be within eye distance of any gun, no matter how bir or how small or in whose hands it belonged. she was too afraid that jessamine would meet the same fate as her father.
but that changed on the day she decided to sneak off of the farm. the day she made her way into town all on her own, following the road she had traveled hundreds of times before with her mother. the thrill of finally being able to explore all on her own was like nothing she had ever felt. and it was that thrill that lead her to general store, to her one friend. atrox.
his father was the owner of the store. a kind old viscet that had always welcomed her as if she was his own child. atrox was more outgoing than her, more confident, used to being able to run around all on his own in the safety of the town. and so it was only natural that when the two of them had grown bored of playing on the stick horses that were kept in stock in the store, that they ventured deep into town together.
they somehow found their way outside the bank; the largest and grandest building in the town. it was there they spent hours rolling in the dirt and play fighting. at least until a group of men on grey stallions rode into town. it was easy to tell they were outsiders. no member of their community rode a grey horse. and there was an air to them, one that spoke of mischief and danger. it was enough to have her freeze in her spot, rotted in place until atrox barreled into her side and knocked her down into the dirt.
"what's wrong?" he asked, and she said nothing, simply gesturing towards the group of men.
both visclings were looking in through the doors of the bank when the leader of the men reached into his coat and pulled out the first gun. small and silver and sleek and deadly. it was nothing like jessamine had imagined it to be, she had always imagined them to be scary looking, not beautiful. but to the others in the bank, the gun was deadly.
everything happened in a flash. a woman with her husband screamed. the teller reached under the counter to grab his own gun. the other strangers pulled out their own guns. the sheriff leaped over the railing of the building next door and raced towards the bank. the first gun went off. the teller clutched his shoulder in pain. another women screamed. the sheriff reached the bank. two more gunshots. more men raced out of business holding guns. three more gunshots. silence.
inside the bank five were dead. the four strangers and the teller. the visclings had see it all. jessamine's adventure had taken a turn for the worse.
late that night, when her mother finally tucked her into her side to sleep, jessamine thought back to the strangers. she was smart. she knew where they had made their error. and she made up her mind. one day, she would do the what they couldn't. she would pull off the perfect bank robbery.
it was just across town that her atrox vowed to become sheriff some day.
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extra 1 - first shots ;
she had been forced to order it from a small store six towns over and pick it up at the post office that was two days ride away. she had picked it up under an alias and the lie that it was for her husband. it was a simple thing. a six shot revolver that had a shimmering steel barrel and a dark wood handle. it came with a stiff leather holster and a small wooden box full of bullets. it had cost her all of a year's worth of spending money and then some. if she got caught with it, there was a fair chance she would be tried and hung. but none of that mattered.
what mattered was it was a gun.
and it was her gun.
it took her five weeks before she was able to convince her to let her off the farm. she said she was going to the next town over to pick up a dress. but after she saddled up her horse and traveled just far enough west to not be seen, she cut into the woods. the dress was one that she had picked up weeks ago and forgotten to show her mother. her true plan was to try out the gun she had tucked safely in her saddle bag.
it took her two hours to get to the dry riverbed. and then another one to get a target put together and set up. but when she finally pulled out her gun and weighed it in her hands, she felt as if she could take on the world.
it was with the uttermost care that she loaded her gun. all six bullets. one after another. metal whispering against metal. she raised it up carefully. set her feet and tail. looked with both eyes down the barrel. aimed at the rough target. pulled the trigger. her arms flew up with the force of the recoil. her ears were ringing from the shot. her eyes watering from the smoke. she breathed in, breathed out, and then aimed again.
it was only after she had fired all six rounds that she made her way down to the target. the first three of her shots had missed it completely. and the other three had landed in random places on the board. all near the edges, all terrifyingly far away from the bulls eye.
but that was okay.
she had time. she could practice more. it would be years yet before she tried to rob the bank. and by then, she would be able to shoot a fly of a horse's back. but until then, she would practice.
she walked back to her starting point, reloaded her gun, and began the cycle again.
{456/500}
