-1I climb over the back of somebody's pickup and peer over the roof. I can see the white tips of Klan masks sticking over the mass of cars. I hear someone screaming in agony. I'd recognize that voice anywhere. It was Gator. I couldn't see much past the white peaks of their masks, so for all I knew, they were killing them. There was no way that I was just going to sit here while they tormented Gator, even though Chase told me to stay here. "Stop it! Stop it! Get your hands off of him!" Screaming, I ran out into the crowd of Klansmen. For a moment, I found myself staring face-to-face with Travis Waite, all dressed up in his Klan uniform, but I could see the malevolence of his soul shining out through his eyes. "Come again, nigger lover?" His voice though kind of shaky, seemed to possess an air of complete mercilessness. "I said get your filthy hands off of him. He's done nothing wrong." "Nothing? Nothing! He cost me my job, as well as my dignity. He encouraged every single picker to stop working for me. Every single stinking one! This despicable vermin thought he'd shown me…. He's getting what he deserves." "The pickers didn't leave because of Gator, they left because they brutally murdered Gus Washburn!" The look on his face quickly changed from ignorant confidence to bemused shock to fury. His emotions were changing as fast as Chase's silver T-Bird, which unfortunately, had just pulled up. "Dove?" He seemed rather exasperated to see me. "No! You shouldn't be here! You need to get out!" Even Gator seems to be trying to tell me to leave, even though he'd been gagged. I look over to Chase, then to Gator and the blood that was trailing down the left side of his head where several Klansmen had been hitting him, and then back to Travis Waite. "Your little friend is right, Dove. You should be getting out of here." A slow smirk had begun to spread across his face, that is, until Chase threw a punch to his lower back. He must've been so drunk that he had barely felt it, because he simply turned around and grabbed Chase's arm and threw him to the ground. There was a sickening crack as his bad shoulder hit the hard earth. "Ha," Travis Waite laughed to himself, "got him right where his father had a couple of years ago." There was a pause. "Hey, has anyone seen Jacob… or Lukas for that matter?" "I do believe they're both out looking for their children," an unrecognizable Klansman replied. "Ah, well since they're not here, I guess the duty falls on us to give these kids the punishment that they deserve." He grabbed my wrist, his hand sweaty, yet cold. I tried to wiggle free, but his grip was like steel. "Let go of me! Stop it!" "I'm going to punish you in a way I hope your father never did." "Stop… you bastard, get your slimy hands off of her…!" Chase woke up again, and even though he seemed immobile, he'd grabbed onto Travis's right leg and was attempting to keep him from moving any further. "Get off of me!" Travis kicked Chase in the head, the noise it made, like metal on bone was the most horrid thing I'd ever heard. Chase was out cold. "Chase… no!" "I'll get back to you later, Nigger," Travis says to Gator, "but I'd like to take care of your lover here first. And unlike what I plan to do to you, I'm going to really enjoy this." Several Klansmen begin to untie Gator from the telephone pole. "Travis, stop. You don't need to do this!" I screamed all I wanted at him, but he was completely shut down from the rest of the world. His eyes had taken a dull glaze. He was completely focused on nothing but getting me tied up to the telephone pole with the burning cross above it. The whole time I tried to think of ways I could get out of this, any possible solution to this situation that would destroy me, even if it didn't kill me. Nothing seemed possible though as Travis tied my wrists together behind my neck, around the telephone pole. If someone, anyone, could come, I could get out of it. If one of the Klansman had only a change of heart as Travis tied my ankles to the telephone pole. Suddenly, my vision became all blurry. Tears had arrived. There was nothing left for me to do. I'd tried to be strong until then, but Chase was laying bleeding and unconscious on the ground and Gator was being beaten by several of the Klansmen. Travis was staring right into my eyes. I tried to avoid his eyes, but I just couldn't escape his stony glare. He put his filthy hand on my shorts and moved down, running along my left leg. "Stop it…" I whimper between gasps and the flood of tears washing off my face, "Take your hands off of me…!" I glance over to the crowd of Klansmen who'd looked up from beating Gator, hoping there was at least one shard of pity on their faces beneath their masks. Travis unrepentantly lunged towards me, the smell of whiskey on his breath so strong, it almost knocked me out. His mouth suddenly locks onto my neck. I scream, an ear piercing shriek that would convince anyone who wasn't watching that I was dying, and for all I knew, I was. He let ago after what seemed like an eternity of torture, only to lock his eyes with mine again. "You're enjoying this aren't you? I want you to feel pain. I want you to suffer, just like your two friends!" He glanced over at Chase and Gator, both of which who were both bleeding profusely. He then put his hands on my chest, trying to unbutton the shirt, but he was fumbling quite a bit since he was still completely drunk. The first button popped open and I was still weeping like the world was ending. He looked up at me once again before another button came undone. A horrifying smile spread across his face, showing his yellow, rotting teeth. And then suddenly, his face completely contorted into a disfigured manifestation of complete pain and astonishment. I managed to pull my eyes away from his face for a moment only to discover the tip of a blade piercing through his ribcage, right below his heart. He fell forward and I found his body completely leaning on my mine. His dreadful breath slowly seeping down my neck, decreasing in pace with each moment flying by. Two different hands grab onto his shoulders and pull him back. His eyes, ever more glazed over, had rolled back, yet seem to still be staring right into me. As soon as he was thrown to the ground, I found myself looking upon my father and Delia, each with one gripping the handle of an oversized bloody hunting knife. "That was for Gus." Delia said in complete composure before spitting on Travis's body. "That was for touching my daughter. I hope you burn in the fires of hell for the rest of time, you scum!" My father shouted while kicking Travis's corpse repeatedly. "D…d..d..dad!!" I scream through my tears. Delia ran over to Gator to attend to his wounds. "Dove… dear.. I can't believe I let him do this to you!" "It's not your fault, dad." I was completely bawling at that point while my father untied the ropes around my wrists and ankles. I fell to the ground with Chase lying across from me. "Dove.." Chase whispered, "I'm happy… happy that's you're okay." "Chase! You're bleeding so much! Your shoulder! It's completely out of place." He gives me that lazy grin of his. "I know… I know, Dove. Come closer. Please." I lean down to him and he reaches up and kisses me on the cheek. "I love you, Dove." The energy to say that must have been too much for him to muster, because he fell back into unconsciousness. "I love you too, Chase." I whispered into his ear. I only hoped he could still hear me. "Dad," I said, trying to keep a strong voice, "we need to get Chase and Gator to the hospital." He nods to me without saying a word. I help Delia carry Gator and place him in the back of the Chase's T-Bird and my father lifted up Chase and propped him up in the passenger's side. Fortunately, the Klan had decided to disperse after seeing Travis stabbed, so my father managed to drive out of the place fairly easily with no other cars in the way. As Chase's T-bird drove away with my father driving it, I look over at Delia. She dropped the bloodied hunting knife to the ground and stared at me for awhile. Her golden brown eyes hadn't a single tear. "I'm sorry that we weren't there earlier." I stare back for awhile and hope that I'd finally stopped crying. "It's ok, Delia. The two of you showed up at just the right moment." For some reason, I almost feel the cold, sweaty hands attempting to unbutton my blouse once again. I clear the memories from my head and look over the hills to the west and see the sun setting. And then right there, I realized that the sun was setting on a lot of things. The sun was setting upon the torment that had been inflicted upon me, the pain that Gator and Chase suffered, and Delia. The sun was also setting on the KKK, with their Grand Dragon dead right before their eyes, there wasn't much more than could do. They know better than to cause any more trouble. "Come, child. Let's go home." Silently, I take Delia's hand and allow her to lead me back home.