Trials of the Trail | Teen Ink

Trials of the Trail

May 20, 2023
By phillip_ely3 BRONZE, Carson, California
phillip_ely3 BRONZE, Carson, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Trial of the Trail

“Off we go!!!” I yelled to my family as we began our trip to the far west. We were looking for a better life. Once we got to Oregon we would have plentiful land and I could establish a strong farm along with my wife and children. I knew the terrain would be tough and the climate unbearable, but it would all be worth it in the end.


“Where are we going?” my wife, Mary, asked.

“To Oregon, of course.” I responded smugly.

“You know what I mean.” she answered, annoyed.

“I don't know, I'm pretty sure we’re lost.” I said defeatedly.

“Dad, I have to go pee!” My 5-year-old daughter, Sara, said to me at the top of her lungs.

“Ok, dear. We’ll find a place to stop and you can do your thing. Maybe we can find directions, too.” I said while scanning the horizon. I spotted smoke in the distance and I directed my cattle towards it.

“There’s a fire over there, maybe the man who made it can help us.” 


As we approached the flame we could see a man waving out a small fire on his shirt. As we got closer we could hear his swears. He was a very young man whose clothes were a mess, looked accident-prone, and held a revolver at his side. He quickly saw us approaching and soon put the fire out.

I stopped the cart and hopped out yelling, “Hello, I’m James, we were lost and just wanted to know if you had any directions. We’re on our way to Oregon.”

“Name’s Jack. I have a map. However, I’m running low on money so could you give me $5, please?” the man asked pleadingly.

“Of course I can.” I said while reaching for my wallet.

As soon as I opened it he reached for his gun and yelled “Empty it. I don't very well know how to use this thing, but I do know where the trigger is. Now toss me the wallet.”

“I’ll give you the money, but put the gun away.” I said cautiously. I began analyzing my surroundings. There was nothing but trees to either side of me. I then heard a noise to my right.

I turned to look but he yelled, “What are you doing?”. I looked straight ahead and began to throw my wallet when to the surprise of both of us Sara came running out of the trees.


BANG!!!!!


She dropped to the floor. I ran to her as fast as I could. She had been shot in the stomach. The wound was fatal, but it would take hours for her to die. Each one hurting more than the last. All she could do was blink. I looked back at the man and he had dropped the gun. He was in total shock. Slowly stepping away from me, as he saw the fire in my eyes. I ran to him and before I knew what I had done, he was dead. His blood covering my hands and clothes. The only reason I stopped was my wife calling me from my daughters dying body.

“Is there anything we can do to stop it?” she asked in tears.

“No. Not a thing. The only thing we can do is stop the pain entirely.” I said as I walked towards the gun, lying on the ground, smoke still coming out of the barrel.

“Nooo!!!!!” my wife yelled, laying on top of Sara to block the shot

“It’s the only way!!” I yelled as I threw her off of Sara. I aimed. I fired.


BANG!!!!!


Her eyes didn't blink anymore. I crumpled to the ground crying.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I repeated as I lay on my daughter’s dead body. What. Had. I. Done. Mary slowly came over to the body. I went back to the wagon and got my shovel. I began digging. By the time of midnight, I had finished my daughters grave. Mary and I slowly lowered her body into the hole. I put the soil back in the tomb as Mary went to the wagon and cried. We hadn’t said a word to one another the entire time.

Finally, she broke the silence, “I can't do this. I can't live with the man who killed my daughter.”

“I didn't kill her. Jack did it.” I whispered.

“I’m taking his wagon and going to Oregon myself. I’d suggest you wait until tomorrow to follow.” She then got out of the wagon and walked to Jack’s. She left. I never saw Mary again after that. I waited the day and turned around to go back from whence I came. I never found Oregon, but I hope she did.



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