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I want to tell you a little story about a boy who was disillusioned. It’s a common story, but that doesn’t make it less important. 

This boy had good intentions, and he assumed the same about the tall people around him.

He was more interested in befriending the crows that came to rest on his rooftop than hearing the old people drone on. 

People had to be good; it was the only way the world made sense. 

It took him a few years to realize his mistake.

When he did realize…it was like the roof caving in. He stood looking at the broken tractor and listening to his grandfather explain how it ended up in the ditch. But the liquor smelled stronger than the fuel…the boy couldn’t believe it. 

The old man looked him straight in the eye and lied.

Then, he started really paying attention, and he got older. He started to see the compromises that people made. He saw the bias and the straight-up deception. He saw selfishness all around him...but the women told him he had to act happy. Put on a happy face.

So, he tried. 

And that was the bigger lie. He shucked and grinned and glad-handed for all he was worth, but in the end, he was alone - his troubles known only to him. He couldn’t bear to be around people. Him, a liar. Them, still lying. His skin burned when he was near them. He stayed up nights wondering what pit of hell would finally have them. 

And him.

They said life was precious down at the church, but the boy figured that for a lie, too. He knew the same sick things about the minister that the whole town did, but he couldn’t choke it down. Everyone else seemed to look away, to make excuses, but it broke him. Same with his family. They said they loved him, but they hurt him and smiled afterwards. 

The boy was raised with guns, but he never had any desire to hurt anyone but himself. He thought of checking out many times. It was a passing thought until it wasn't. 

He took the shotgun off the wall carefully, and when the gun went off even the crows left. They never came back. There was no reason to. Not with the boy gone.

“I did my best.”

That was the last thought the boy thought.

Then an owl screeched in the night.