A Knife to Slice CH 4
Chapter 4: Stitch A Piece
Stitch a Piece
CH: 4
BY: Wolfa Moon
See previous for summary and disclaimer.
Reminder, if you like review please. If depressed, seek help.
To wake from a dream or a nightmare can seem to be so many things. Yet always waking to a fog. He remembered that and then the floating. Pulling this and that way. Now being pulled in a direction he really didn't want to. Light poured down upon him. Noise making itself known. The world making itself known. Something he thought he had left behind. He had failed. how? Why?
Needing to understand. Trying to rise but hands came upon him ushering him down.
"Easy Ezra." Ezra groaned. This is not what is suppose to be happening. He was suppose to be free from this mortal coil. Free from their barbs and stones thrown at him. "Ezra." Ignoring the call he tried to roll away. "Easy Ezra."
"G'" get away, he wants to yell at them. They care now. Now of all times. Cowards. If they accuse him again of such he tells himself laudanum and a gun. Sounds good. Closing the world out with sight that still left sound and touch. And touch they did. Unwanted touch.
"Ezra please." Their leader spoke. Not his leader. Not a man he wants to look for orders from. He had, had enough of that during the war. He tried. Good lord did he try. But in the end he failed. Toppling down onto their pristine derriere. Or so they thought. They are just as dirty as every other mans.
"Ezra." Ezra moves his arms. Then he can't. People had moved in to hold him down. He just wants to cover his ears block them out. They tell him to remain calm, be easy, it's all right. It is far from alright.
"Ge…" his mouth so dry. Then there is water. That he wanted. But he also wants to get away. He begins to struggle. Spitting the water out of his mouth. Growling at the intrusions upon his body.
"Easy." It was time.
"Get off of me!" he finally yells. Everyone in the room step back as if slapped. As they should. Ezra fumbles up to glare at all of them. His arms came into view. Wrapped bandaged, gleaming white as snow. Then movement caught his attention. They began to converge on him. Moving quickly he began to unravel his bindings. They step quicker. But when he yells, "Stop." They halt in their tracks as deer do. He looks down at the stitching. Red outlines the suture. From elbow to wrist. They had saved him. "Why?"
The group looking from one another. Ezra had wanted to know why did they save him. Why do they care? That is the question of moment.
"Ezra," Chris spoke. Stepping closer. Keeping his eyes glued on the gambler. Seeing him so pale now full of life. What life did he have now? The face remained the same. Lost. "Ezra," moving closer to the bed. Ezra moved away from him. Edging closer to the edge. The edge of the cliff ready to jump off. Not even have to think. Just leaping. Who knew where his body would end up? Chris grabbed him before he could leap. "Ezra listen to me." Grabbing the man around the waist and pulling him toward him. The shaking figure in his arms concerning him. What had he done? "Please Ezra, please." He had no right to plea with the stricken man. But he had to do something. Causing so much pain. Words upon words. Tumbling down back into their faces. All of their faces.
Word on the street now that the gambler had pissed off the wrong people and was hurt for his supposed actions. Steeling innocent people's money, Nathan's words. A sinner, Josiah's. A sneaky snake, Vin. I don't know him that well, JD's. He's a gambler what do you expect, Buck's. A pathetic excuse for a human being. Doesn't deserve to live. Chris and his drunken rants. Longer than any of the other but heard by all in his drunken stupor. Yet no one called him on being a drunk. He is the leader. Do no wrong. And then there is their black sheep. The one that deserved to be held in regard. Protecting the innocent. Teaching people lessons of life. Chris held Ezra tighter to him. Ezra collapsing inside himself. Sure he tried to jump in reality. Yet had been halted. No one said anything about the mind. The form in Chris' arms going still. No fight left.
No place to go. He is surrounded by the men he tried to get away from. Away from their accusations. Their voice against him. He tried so hard just to have them pull him back for more torture. If he couldn't be allowed to hurt the physical. The mental already so badly damaged. No the reverse in feelings. He broke. Going to that one safe refuge he had left. The seclusion so far in the back of his mind. A place he hasn't been since youth for it no longer existed. A secluded cabin in the southern hills outside Georgia. A residence on his grand pappy's estate. His father's side. His father's place of seclusion now his. There he would be safe.
Chris jerked when the form went still in his grasp. Turning the gambler's face to look him in the eye. When he gazed upon those once so bright playful eyes. They are dull. The spark had gone out. They had done this. They had broken this great man. How could they fix this? Looking to the others they could only show shock, saddens, grief, sorrow, regret, remorse. They had done this. Gently laying Ezra back down on the cot. This is Ezra not just some gambler. He is a part of the seven protecting this town. Yet they had destroyed him for calling him the evils of gambler, con artist, thief, a no good bastard. Eyes watched the ceiling, no focus. Chris sighed heavily. Him being the first to throw many of stones. All hitting their target. Running his dirty hands along the southerners' cheek he felt it all. His pain. Ezra's pain. Chris breaking. Bending over the gambler he cried hard. Crying into the chest of a man who didn't deserve to be killed by him. Chris didn't deserve to be here but he had nowhere else to go. His place is here.
PLEASE REVIEW. Tell me what you think.
Stitch a Piece
CH: 4
BY: Wolfa Moon
See previous for summary and disclaimer.
Reminder, if you like review please. If depressed, seek help.
To wake from a dream or a nightmare can seem to be so many things. Yet always waking to a fog. He remembered that and then the floating. Pulling this and that way. Now being pulled in a direction he really didn't want to. Light poured down upon him. Noise making itself known. The world making itself known. Something he thought he had left behind. He had failed. how? Why?
Needing to understand. Trying to rise but hands came upon him ushering him down.
"Easy Ezra." Ezra groaned. This is not what is suppose to be happening. He was suppose to be free from this mortal coil. Free from their barbs and stones thrown at him. "Ezra." Ignoring the call he tried to roll away. "Easy Ezra."
"G'" get away, he wants to yell at them. They care now. Now of all times. Cowards. If they accuse him again of such he tells himself laudanum and a gun. Sounds good. Closing the world out with sight that still left sound and touch. And touch they did. Unwanted touch.
"Ezra please." Their leader spoke. Not his leader. Not a man he wants to look for orders from. He had, had enough of that during the war. He tried. Good lord did he try. But in the end he failed. Toppling down onto their pristine derriere. Or so they thought. They are just as dirty as every other mans.
"Ezra." Ezra moves his arms. Then he can't. People had moved in to hold him down. He just wants to cover his ears block them out. They tell him to remain calm, be easy, it's all right. It is far from alright.
"Ge…" his mouth so dry. Then there is water. That he wanted. But he also wants to get away. He begins to struggle. Spitting the water out of his mouth. Growling at the intrusions upon his body.
"Easy." It was time.
"Get off of me!" he finally yells. Everyone in the room step back as if slapped. As they should. Ezra fumbles up to glare at all of them. His arms came into view. Wrapped bandaged, gleaming white as snow. Then movement caught his attention. They began to converge on him. Moving quickly he began to unravel his bindings. They step quicker. But when he yells, "Stop." They halt in their tracks as deer do. He looks down at the stitching. Red outlines the suture. From elbow to wrist. They had saved him. "Why?"
The group looking from one another. Ezra had wanted to know why did they save him. Why do they care? That is the question of moment.
"Ezra," Chris spoke. Stepping closer. Keeping his eyes glued on the gambler. Seeing him so pale now full of life. What life did he have now? The face remained the same. Lost. "Ezra," moving closer to the bed. Ezra moved away from him. Edging closer to the edge. The edge of the cliff ready to jump off. Not even have to think. Just leaping. Who knew where his body would end up? Chris grabbed him before he could leap. "Ezra listen to me." Grabbing the man around the waist and pulling him toward him. The shaking figure in his arms concerning him. What had he done? "Please Ezra, please." He had no right to plea with the stricken man. But he had to do something. Causing so much pain. Words upon words. Tumbling down back into their faces. All of their faces.
Word on the street now that the gambler had pissed off the wrong people and was hurt for his supposed actions. Steeling innocent people's money, Nathan's words. A sinner, Josiah's. A sneaky snake, Vin. I don't know him that well, JD's. He's a gambler what do you expect, Buck's. A pathetic excuse for a human being. Doesn't deserve to live. Chris and his drunken rants. Longer than any of the other but heard by all in his drunken stupor. Yet no one called him on being a drunk. He is the leader. Do no wrong. And then there is their black sheep. The one that deserved to be held in regard. Protecting the innocent. Teaching people lessons of life. Chris held Ezra tighter to him. Ezra collapsing inside himself. Sure he tried to jump in reality. Yet had been halted. No one said anything about the mind. The form in Chris' arms going still. No fight left.
No place to go. He is surrounded by the men he tried to get away from. Away from their accusations. Their voice against him. He tried so hard just to have them pull him back for more torture. If he couldn't be allowed to hurt the physical. The mental already so badly damaged. No the reverse in feelings. He broke. Going to that one safe refuge he had left. The seclusion so far in the back of his mind. A place he hasn't been since youth for it no longer existed. A secluded cabin in the southern hills outside Georgia. A residence on his grand pappy's estate. His father's side. His father's place of seclusion now his. There he would be safe.
Chris jerked when the form went still in his grasp. Turning the gambler's face to look him in the eye. When he gazed upon those once so bright playful eyes. They are dull. The spark had gone out. They had done this. They had broken this great man. How could they fix this? Looking to the others they could only show shock, saddens, grief, sorrow, regret, remorse. They had done this. Gently laying Ezra back down on the cot. This is Ezra not just some gambler. He is a part of the seven protecting this town. Yet they had destroyed him for calling him the evils of gambler, con artist, thief, a no good bastard. Eyes watched the ceiling, no focus. Chris sighed heavily. Him being the first to throw many of stones. All hitting their target. Running his dirty hands along the southerners' cheek he felt it all. His pain. Ezra's pain. Chris breaking. Bending over the gambler he cried hard. Crying into the chest of a man who didn't deserve to be killed by him. Chris didn't deserve to be here but he had nowhere else to go. His place is here.
PLEASE REVIEW. Tell me what you think.