Jimmy Essays - English-language Films, Jimmy King, Fiction

Jimmy Jimmy lay flat on the ground, his belly pressed tightly to the earth. Green shrubs sheltered him from view. Only one hundred yards of cleared land sat between him and his objective. He had waited five years for this. It so happened that it was five years ago from today that it had happened. The nightmare that had taken place that evening was again playing in his mind. The sound of the first shot echoed through his head. The scream as his mother fell. The futile, retaliatory shots from his father . . . That evening had resulted in the death of both of his parents. He couldn't help but think that, in some way, it was his fault. If only he hadn't left his parents alone. If only he hadn't gone to explore the woods. If only he'd thought to bring a gun with him. If only he hadn't just stood there watching from the protection of the trees as those lethal bullets found their way into his parents. Then, maybe then, things would have been different. Jimmy couldn't really blame himself. After all, what could a fifteen year old boy be expected to do under those circumstances? His parents had dreamed of a better life. A life that would bring prosperity and success for the family, specifically for him. They had heard there was rich, fertile land out west. Sadly enough, his parents' last breaths were drawn only a few hundred miles from their dream. They had been murdered for nothing more than the few dollars and a couple of small pieces of jewelry that they had possessed. The murderers had laughed as they kicked at his dead father, looking for anything of value. They had been quite sure of themselves and wore no masks. Jimmy could still remember their faces as if it was yesterday. The murderers would be brought to justice, come hell or high water, Jimmy had decided. As it turned out, he was complied to track them for the past five years, through both hell and high water. Their trail had led through many obscure, sparsely populated western towns. It had not been easy. But Jimmy had always looked older than he was. Even at fifteen, he had been able to get rooms at hotels and bars. Now, at twenty years of age, Jimmy was a hardened man. Life on the road had been rough. It had taught him definite proficiency with his revolver and not to be afraid to use it. He had been through it all now, gunslingers, murderers, drunks, prostitutes, you name it, he'd been there. The stress showed on his face though his tangled beard concealed most of it. The only clothes that he owned, he wore. They consisted quite simply of a pair of jeans, a plaid shirt, a black belt and a Stetson. Other than his horse and his highly polished revolvers and his rifle, these were his sole possessions. A shadow stirred in the window and Jimmy forced the memories into the back of his mind. His parents' death would soon be avenged. There were only several hours until complete darkness would conceal his approach. Jimmy began to plan his invasion. Drunken voices were raised in the cabin. "Good," thought Jimmy, "They should be intoxicated enough that they'll never know what hit them." With this for assurance, Jimmy closed his eyes slowly and rested, anticipating the night's conclusion. The sound of a plate breaking and the sounds of knuckles meeting flesh woke Jimmy with a start. A quick surveillance of the property assured Jimmy that nothing special was happening. He had often seen two best friends fight when they were drunk. Liquor had that effect on people. It made them do crazy things. That was essentially why he tried to stay away from the stuff. He was wished that he'd brought some along tonight though. Just then he was getting a little queasy about the whole affair. During the past five years there had never been any doubt what he had to do. Now . . . "There is no question of what I have to do," Jimmy convinced himself. It was time. The only light source in the area was that coming from the lamp on the table in the cabin. His revolver slid out of its holster silently. Jimmy crept up to the door, staying carefully to the shadows. One deep breath of conviction and a swift, strong kick knocked the door off its hinges. He tensed, ready