• Its odd, things are changing, more than they should be. My name is Lawrence, im 12, I live in south California, 1899, this, is my gruesome story.

    The ranch gate flu open as a tall man, wearing a top hat and smoking the fattest, biggest cigar Lawrence have ever seen, he had a dark police suit on and long pointy boots, his thick curly hair sprung out under his hat. He had a semi-automatic pistol in his left holster and a lighted match in his right hand, he lit his cigarette and slowly walked towards the front door. Lawrence was wearing his duster coat and was peering through the murky window in his bedroom. He watched as his father walked out of the front door and confronted the man. His spurs shining in the sun. He had his hair covering his right eye and he wore rancher clothing. “Hello mister, err..” his pa said while looking down. “Mister Wick, is this the Graham residence?” he asked politely. “Yer it is, we have best livestock in the west, and how can I help you Mr. wick?” “We’ve had an eyewitness saying that Jack Graham robbed a bank in the small town of, Flint.” As he said this, he pulled his pistol and aimed it at his head. Jack put his hands up, “I didn’t do a thing Mr. Wick I..” Lawrence was already running to the front door, he made it to the kitchen, but he knew he was about to put up a fight, He reached the front door when the worst sound happened, click, click, it went silent, bang.

    Chapter 1, Bloodshed

    “Jesus Lawrence, its bloodshed out there, do something!” Another gang fight, the sound of horses squealing, guns firing, blood on the floor were a few of his gang members lay , A man stood, face down, he knew he wasn’t going to win this fight, he took out his rifle, cowboy hat covered his eyes, leather boots with blood stained spurs twinkling in the twilight he rode towards the battle, shooting everyman in sight, then, every one stopped, so did Lawrence, in the twinkling background, police constables were shooting up in the air, galloping at right at us, trailing dust behind the, but, Lawrence tried to go, but the horse said no, it threw him into the sky and head first into the dust, he could hear people shooting, and then, nothing.
    “So that’s what happened, you’re the no.1 most wanted, the bounty on your head is well over 5000$, you and your gang have, been accused for train robberies, mugging, gang fights, bar fights, bank robberies, hustling horses and cattle, cattle killings and several attempts at black mail, why don’t we just kill you now Mr. Graham?” Lawrence spat on the floor and laughed “Are you Mr. Wick?”