The Killing(Darrell Case) He curled up in a ball, trying to make himself smaller. He could hear them coming. They passed within a few feet. At 5 years old, he knew enough to keep still. His mother had taught him.

He ran from the cabin while they were killing his family. When they were done with the killing, they would come for him.

He cried silently. Tears dripped off his chin. In his heart, he cried. ‘Momma oh momma.’

They wanted the gold. His father told them no.

The mist turned to a drizzle, the drizzle to a downpour. His sorrow caused him to sleep.

He felt something on his cheek. He opened his eyes to the morning light and the prodding of a rifle. The bearded man smiled down at him.

“Knew we’d find yo’ hiddin’ just had’t keep looki…” He jerked, started to turn and stumbled. He gawked at the man who had shot him. “Yo…your dead?”

“No, you are. “ His father shot the man again.

He gathered the little boy in his arms. “Come on, your momma got breakfast on the table.”

They walked around the other two dead men outside the cabin. His mother smiled at him as his father set the child in his chair.

---