Gideon stood in the doorway. Dirt on his boots. Hands sore. Shirt soaked from the work. The field behind him was dead. Nothing had grown right in weeks.
His father sat at the table. Didn’t look up. Just kept sharpening his old knife even though they had nothing left to cut. His mother stirred a pot that didn’t smell like food anymore.
“I’m going,” Gideon said.
No one moved at first.
His mother turned, spoon still in her hand. “Going where.”
“Out there. Anywhere. I can’t stay here and rot.”
His father looked up now. Eyes tired. Not angry, just worn.
“You’re needed here,” he said.
“I’ve given everything I can. It’s not enough.”
No one spoke for a while. Just the sound of the stew bubbling.
Gideon looked down. “I’m not running. I just… can’t live like this. I’ll find something. I’ll send what I can back.”
His mother walked up to him. Put her hand on his chest. “Don’t forget where you come from.”
“I won’t.”
His father didn’t say another word. Just got up and walked outside. Left the knife on the table.
That night Gideon packed. Took the knife. His coat. A small pouch of dried meat.
Before the sun rose, he was on the road. No map. Just forward.
(Backstory summery)
Gideon was born to a farmer’s life. Dirt under the nails sun on the back kind of life. His father was quiet and tough his mother told stories when the work was done. Big stories. Ones about far off places strange creatures lost things buried deep in the world. Gideon believed every word.
He wasn’t meant for the fields. He tried. He hauled grain mended fences fed the animals but it never felt like enough. Every time he looked past the edge of the land his chest felt tight like something was calling him. He didn’t have a name for it just a pull.
Then one year the crops died. Blight or rot or something worse. The farm couldn’t hold. Gideon made a choice. He packed up what little he had left behind a note and walked away.
He wandered for a while. Did whatever work he could. Slept where he could. Learned how to listen more than speak how to spot danger before it showed its teeth.
Now he walks. Still looking. Still chasing that feeling. He doesn’t know what he’s after exactly. Just that it’s out there. And he won’t stop til he finds it.
(Note: I used chatgtp to fix some grammar error im dyslexic for real not jokingly lol)
