Last Breath At Little Big Horn

Why did he split away from the rest of the troops? Why didn’t he do what he was told for once? Damn him!

Damn me.

This isn’t the first time I rode into battle with him.

Got three more.

Oh, God, it hurts! I can’t reach back to pull the arrow out and concentrate on the Indians at the same time. Got another one.

Almost out of bullets. It’s hopeless. I can barely see six, maybe seven more soldiers fighting. Custer fell a few minutes after we were surprised with their plan of attack.

I want to scream out loud, the pain is so bad! Two more arrows have punctured my left leg and my back.

Now I can see two other men still standing, no, make that one. I got one more. Two bullets left. Now, I’m the last one left.

Three Indians dismount and are coming my way! I fire. One falls. I cock the hammer back again, and use what strength I have left to stand, bad leg and all, and laugh loudly. The laugh of the insane.

The Indians stop for a moment, stare at me and speak to each other in their native tongue, then come rushing at me. Both have their tomahawks raised high preparing to kill me and then take my hair.

Screw that.

I raise the gun to my head.

Inhale.

Squeeze the trigger.

End of story.