I am sitting alone on a dirty balcony, thinking about our town sheriff. Everyone knows he is a bad person. I did not care so much, until he killed my brother. Let me tell you the story.
My brother, Tom, was a respectable member of our small community, who liked everyone, and everyone liked him back. Well, we were short on money, so he decided he would make some extra money by helping a friend of his catch and pen up some horses to sell. He did not see anything, except for the ten dollars he would be making off of it.
I was immediately alarmed, and thought about warning him that he should learn more about why they wanted these horses. He is my older brother, so I did not say a word. I really wish I had, now that he is dead.
The men he was helping sold the horses and he got his money, but there was a problem. The horses belonged to the town sheriff, who was out of town at the time. Big mistake.
Needless to say, it was not long before one of the men squealed on the others about the theft. Tom was shocked that they were not wild horses, because that was what they acted like. He was very angry and afraid when he found out, however.
The sheriff would not have any mercy on them, and had them all publically hanged without a fair trial. My brother died because he trusted the wrong people, and that is a lesson I will always carry with me. I will also always carry the hatred I have for the sheriff who killed him, and my six shooter as my constant companion.
Back to reality. I am still sitting here, because I do not have anything else to do and it is time for me to get my revenge. I have not seen anyone come out of the station, but when I do, he is dead.
I stay there all day without anyone noticing. He must have important business there, because I have not seen him. I still wait.
Another hour passes, and I finally see the door open. I watch the bastard walk out into the street and that is when I take aim. I will shoot him in the back, just like he does every damn person in this town.
Setting my sights, I fire the shot. The sheriff falls to the ground, and I watch as he struggles to breath as life leaves him. That is exactly how Tom probably felt when he was hanged, and I am glad I was the one to fire the shot.
He is finally still, and I make my way down the balcony, unnoticed. No one will know where the shot came from, and I will slip out of this dirty town forever and start a new life somewhere else.
Hurrying to the livery, I pay for a horse and saddle. I have all my belongings pack already, and I ride out of town.
I am satisfied that the bastard is dead, but saddened that my brother could not be here to see it. He would have been proud of the way I avenged him. I try not to think about my brother, because the ice is still solid around my heart, and I do not want it to melt away. If that happens, I will probably break.
Two days later, I wake up to a feeling of alarm. Not knowing what it could be, I jump on my stolen horse and run.
A few hours later, I find out what the alarm was: the deputy has been tracking me, and now he is on my tail. I will just have to out run him.
He chases be to the next town, where I know he does not have jurisdiction. I smile as he loses sight of me and goes into the sheriff's office. I am an outlaw now, but I do not care. I shot the sheriff, and I am sure the world will thank me later. Right now, I will keep on running on my stolen horse.
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