|You Can't Take Me
"HARUTO!" The teenage boy shouted almost at the top of his lungs. He ran out to the front yard just in time to see his brother being pulled away. A man had came to his peaceful home and kidnapped his younger brother when Kaito wasn't looking. He was, in fact, beyond fearful and angry. The men that man brought with him had captured and killed their cattle and chicken. The two brothers relied on their farm to survive.
Why they oughta...! He snarled and ran after Haruto, who was tied up and strapped onto the back of the horse.
That man stopped him and smiled wickedly. He took off his old hat, showing his graying green hair and wild red heart-shaped glasses.
"If you want your brother alive, you'll need to come with us," he spoke in a tone that Kaito knew meant trouble. He gritted his teeth and stood straighter. He called his men to tie his wrists. No extra horse, the men refuse to let their captive on their own, the boss had Haruto on his - meant Kaito walking on foot.
They nodded to their leader as a gesture to get a move on.
Maybe if Kaito could break free, he'd take Haruto and run from here. Not back home, he thought and began to strain his wrists to get the ropes loosened. While doing this and walking at the same time proved to be a difficult task. The man tugged harshly on the rope that attached to the binding around Kaito's hands.
He pulled his arms up close to his face, his bare teeth gnawing at the secure, thick material. He wasn't usually this aggressive and stubborn, but he'd do anything for Haruto's safety. He had to. He must.
Kaito twisted around his hands and continued struggling until the skin of his wrists was raw and sore. He panted heavily and exhaustion was starting to get him then. He can't give up.
They can't take him, or Haruto.
They were free.
Having thought of those thoughts, he regained his strength quickly. He jammed the front of his foot into the terrain. He held his stance and strained at his arms to pull on the bindings. He had lifted many tons of juicy meat before, buckets full of eggs, a shovel high-piled of fresh soil and mud. Carried several calves over his shoulders to move them to the barn and sometimes from the fields when they got too weak to walk on their own.
Why can't he overcome this? He flexed his arms and once more, gnawed while pulling his arms all in a big struggle. Not before long, he collapsed onto the dry, dirt ground. His eyes had the look of sullenness and hopelessness.
This was only the first hours with many hot days to come.
Never though I'd write a Western story, even though I love cowboys and the Old West... Heh.
Special treat to anyone who knows the song.