The coming morning was as dreadful as Abel had figured it would be. The sun was relentless as it began to rise, its heat warming his skin uncomfortably. He turned to put his back to it, but without a shirt, it did little to help. With the sun came a strong breeze from the east, forcing his cage to sway and the rusted metal chain to screech noisily. Abel winced several times before the sound grew into an uncomfortable piece of background noise, joining the screaming of gulls and squawk of vultures beginning to gather on the pillar above, which held the main weight of the cage.
"I see you, you harlots. I am not dead yet, but do not despair. You shall have my meat soon enough. Just let me die with at least the rest of my dignity remaining."
He sighed, shifting a little more to try to get used to the heat.
"They should have at least given me a pillow and cleaned the bottom of the cage."
He had a feeling that he was lying on another prisoner's tamped-down fecal matter, too. As well as dried bird excrement. The waste had likely been cooked down into a second floor by years of sun and harsh weather.
Around noon, the birds began to get more bold. Several gulls landed on his cage, ducking their heads inside of the bars and squawking, almost as if they were asking him if he was dead yet. One even dared to defecate on his shoulder, making Abel grumble. He wanted to flick the feces off, but knew that it would be much easier to remove once it had been dried by the sun. So he just left the droppings be, intent on removing it later.
Later.
Abel sighed at the thought of the word. What was his later? Swinging in the cage above the water, being pecked to death by gulls and vultures.
Sounds about right... and wrong.
He didn't let himself think about the wrong portion, though, knowing that it bothered him and worrying about what he could not change would not help him in his current situation.
There is no help in your current situation, he reminded himself as he swatted at a gull that had dropped down near the bottom of his cage to try to peck a bit of food out of him. It earned itself a kick when it didn't disperse with a swing of his hand.
"Well, at least up here, I can be a man and no one can call me otherwise."
He laughed quietly, then slowly pushed himself up to sit against the bars.
"I am Abel." He thought about a possible last name but couldn't come up with anything that wasn't similar to his former one, and that was the last thing he wanted to put behind his precious first name. And it was precious, even if the man responsible for giving it to him was also the one who had brought him to his death.
He was only doing his job. I have no proof and father has all of it. Even if I had not killed his daughter in their eyes, I am still responsible for her disappearance because I saw her last and was wearing her clothing.
In all honestly, he had looked up to the lawman the moment he had seen him years prior. It was always brief glances here and there as the man went about the town working on certain cases. After spending some time with the man, he still did somewhat admire him.
Maybe if I grew up as a normal boy, I would have been able to learn from him. Perhaps even become a lawman when I was old enough.
That brought up a random curious thought about how old Kirin was. He looked to be about twenty-five or twenty-six, but Abel would have liked to ask.
Not going to get a chance to now, he reminded himself as he punched a pesky vulture in the face.
"Sorry, sir, but you need to wait your turn. You do not get dinner until I am dead."
YOU ARE READING
Reverse (mxm)
Historical Fiction(boyxboy) Growing up as a girl was hard enough in the early eighteen hundreds. Growing up as a girl while being a boy? Nearly impossible. Ariel finds himself stuck between what he's been taught his entire life and what he's wanted his entire lif...
