Warm sunlight wrapped the young boy in life. Life that had been locked away in a tiny shed, year after wretched year, was reborn. His limbs ached with each step that he took further out into the fleeing afternoon. His name was Samuel and he survived off of light, just as you and I survive on food and water. Dust rose off of the abandonded fields, freshly tilled and ready for planting. Beetles lazily drifted through the humid air, oblivious to the killing fields that lay just down the path from Samuel as he struggled to find his feet. His breath came short and terror stricken. He was about 12, just at the awkward cusp of manhood but not yet over the edge. His feet were too large and his gait was too long, but his eyes held steady and determined. Sharp and blue, aged by hardship but not broken. No, not broken at all.

Weeds soon overtook the small dirt trail that he was following. The crooked path snaked its way through the dense underbrush of the mid-western landscape, over a hill and down to the small shack that had been Samuel’s home for as long as he could remember. But that was yesterday, and this was today. Today he had killed the man who had been his terror every waking moment for all of his life. It was still fear that caused him to keep moving now. The sun breathed its life into him like death’s throes, fading into the west. Mosquitos annoyingly buzzed at his ears and drank from his bare flesh, but he barely noticed. Dirt kicked up on the path as he picked up his feet and crested the hill that overlooked the tumbling farmhouse, which housed frantic chickens, decaying machinery and angry men. He stopped for a minute at the apex of the hill, and felt the last ray of sun kiss the back of his neck. Then it was gone, but his strength remained. The nightbirds trilled their joy at the disapearance of light. The earth settled and it seemed like the air breathed a sigh of relief. It breathed easily too early.

The sound of his beating heart reminded Samuel that he was alive. More alive than he had ever been. The dog that was chained in the yard noticed a change in the air and became deathly silent, his posture rigid against the cooling air. Samuel softly crept down the hill towards the dog, which quickly noticed him and began to viciously bark again. The door to the old white farmhouse creaked open, and a half dressed man stalked out onto the broken porch and pushed back his hat. He saw the young boy trying to hide, loudly swore and raced back inside.