Surviving the Game

He`d rip it apart.
Head was off.
Shirt was gone.

So, thirteen years old,
birthday time.

Got me a twelve-gauge shotgun.
We`re goin` huntin`.
l was so excited.
We went out in the clearing
in the woods.

My dad laid our guns down
and said...

""Son, today you`re going to
learn to control your emotions.""

""You`re going to do things
some men are unwilling to do.""

`"Follow me.""
We went around a clump of trees.
There`s a little corral.

There`s Prince Heny Stout...
in the middle of the corral.

My dad took out a pocketful
of chery bombs...

put `em in my hand, and said,
""Get in the corral.

""Light those chery bombs
and throw `em at the Prince.""

`"You`re gonna face manhood.
You`re gonna fight that dog
to the death.""

""He`s gonna kill you,
or you`re gonna kill him.""

He was on me.
He was on me like flies on shit.
l had no chance.
l got my arm up
between his teeth and my neck.

Went down in the mud,
rolled over.

That dog
is fightin` and bitin`...

and l`m screamin` and cyin`,
grabbin` him around the head.

l stand up and fall
with my weight on him...

hear his neck break.
He`s dead.
He`s not breathin`.
He`s not...yelpin`,
he`s not bitin`...

and l`m covered with blood.