I grabbed my hair in a bundle and tied it with grass. I removed my knife from my pocket and I cut all of my hair off and held it there in my hands, then lifted my head, looking forwards at Alope. I looked at her holding our children. They were so scared, even in her embrace. My mother laid there alongside them. Her skin too cold. I stared at them and hoped they were better off. I thought to myself that the Mexican's that did this would pay. They left me with the sights of my family with no flowing blood and skin too numb. I gathered all of their belongings and placed them beside them. I placed my hair next to Alope and I started the fire that would mark the last time I would ever see my  mother, wife, and three children. I sat and watched the fire grow stronger. I walked away before it was over because I couldn't see the end.

    I took a long walk, thinking about how there was a woman who hid her boy from a monster and when he was older, he killed it, defeating the darkness in the world. This boy was then called Apache. From then on, all of his decendants were called Apache and some broke off into different tribes, taking on different names. I stopped believing in this legend after the Mexicans killed my family. How could the boy have defeated darkness but the Mexicans still existed. I looked up and saw a quail perched on a dead tree. A quail was the first animal I killed. It  granted me its raw heart for success in future hunting. I was to swallow its heart whole. My dad had told me this, and he told me that my only friends were my legs. To trust nothing but my legs. I ran every day because of him and I loved it too.

    I began to run, remembering the ways I would when I was younger. The only thought on my mind was Alope. She had the most beautiful eyes and hair, but most of all, her heart. I began to think of the time I left home to go capture horses for her father. I'd asked for her father's permission to marry her and he thoughtfully declined by telling me she was worth more horses than I could provide for him. I gave him enough though. He had been impressed after I returned from my three day long journey. He thought I'd left from being embarrassed for not being good enough for his daughter but he didn't believe in that for much longer after I had returned alongside five horses.

    My mother used to tell me a legend that had been passed down through generations of Apaches. She said, "Power is everywhere, it lives in everything. It might be known through a word, or come though the shape of an animal. We all have Power, but some tap into different rooms. Power speaks to those who listen." That was what gave me hope to capture the horses. I knew I had power I needed in my legs. It was sad to see all the wisdom she had given me had died with the ones I loved in a raid that was only but a joke to the Mexicans.

    The sunset was almost over so I turned around and started walking back to the camp. At this time all I saw of them was ash. Black and white was what their bodies and all of those memories turned into. I could have held their thoughts in the palms of my hands. I knew now that the wind would blow and the ash would travel and they would get to see everything they hadn't seen before and they would grow old and become part of plants and animals and a person to eat a meal from those plants or animals would be sent in my direction and cross my path and become the next person I would love. I walked over to them, knelt on the ground, and ran my brittle fingers through the ash. The wind picked up and I watched the ash drift away.