Texas. The 28th state is known to be a strong loud-mouth whose heart often leads her into trouble. Since her beginnings with Spain under the name Tejas, she has been a rebel for freedom, getting into many adventures and battles as a result of such patriotic tendencies. Among the first wars she fought was her revolution against her older brother, Mexico, who she continues to hold a grudge to this very day. 

The Texas Revolution was a part of a revolutionary trend against authoritative powers. For her war, she wanted to become her own country with her own laws and freedoms against Mexico's central government. Fighting alongside legendary heroes such as Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett, and William B. Travis, she'll always remember the brave soldiers who fought for her independence with their guns, their wit, and their heart.

☆☆☆☆☆

Today was the early morning of March 6, 1836. For once, the unusually-cold air was still, giving us some time to rest and prepare for another fight to come. It was the thirteenth night on the defense for my men. I had only arrived two days ago, yet the struggle felt like a month-long war. I regret not coming sooner, however, I was held up at the convention.

The convention for my Declaration of Independence happened on the second of March, earning immediate approval from the men who were at there. I was told to stay at the convention, needed to hear the agreements on the constitution. Sadly, I couldn't wait.

Father had sent a letter to me regarding his absence at the convention. Within the letter, he informed me of a battle at the Alamo where some of my friends were held in a standstill against the Mexicans. Father didn't like my lone travels, saying it was dangerous for me to be out on my own, especially with the war going on. Even though he trusted my ability to handle myself, he advised I stay away from the war zones. So far, I did just that.

But then the newspaper came. Within the printed text was a letter from William B. Travis.

To the People of Texas & All Americans in the World:

Fellow citizens & compatriots - I am besieged, by a thousand or more of the Mexicans under Santa Anna - I have sustained a continual Bombardment & cannonade for 24 hours & have not lost a man. The enemy has demanded a surrender at discretion, otherwise, the garrison are to be put to the sword, if the fort is taken - I have answered the demand with a cannon shot, & our flag still waves proudly from the walls. I shall never surrender or retreat. Then, I call on you in the name of Liberty, of patriotism & everything dear to the American character, to come to our aid, with all dispatch - The enemy is receiving reinforcements daily & will no doubt increase to three or four thousand in four or five days. If this call is neglected, I am determined to sustain myself as long as possible & die like a soldier who never forgets what is due to his own honor & that of his country - Victory or Death!

William Barret Travis

Lt. Col. comdt

P.S. The Lord is on our side. When the enemy appeared in sight we had not three bushels of corn. We have since found in deserted houses 80 or 90 bushels and got into the walls 20 or 30 head of Beeves.

Travis

After the reading the letter, I left without a word and headed to the Alamo. With an agile horse, my rifle, and a bag full of food and ammunition, I made the long journey to assist the men.

On my way, I met with a group of fifty soldiers who claimed to be reinforcements from Goliad. The men were hesitant to bring me along, but I managed to convince them. They didn't buy my claim of being Austin's little girl, but they were convinced of my medical talents despite my lack of knowledge in the subject. Thus, I joined them in our quest to assist the men of the Alamo.

When we arrived in San Antonio, we discovered the mission was swarmed by thousands of armed Mexicans. We were put into a difficult position on what to do, whether it was possible to reach the men behind the walls of the Alamo without getting harmed in the process. With our small numbers and the Mexican's high defenses, we were unsure if we were going to make it to the others at all.

Luckily, a miracle came to us around midnight. A Tennessean by the name of Davy Crockett greeted us as an ally. He and another man offered to help us get through the lines for that we were thankful for their help. After much arguing and planning, we split into two groups and made a barge through the Mexican wall much to the Mexican's surprise. It was difficult. The other group had to bail. Fortunately, the group I was with was able to succeed. By dawn, my group broke through the barricade and entered the Alamo with cheers.

We were greeted by weakened, but hopeful hundreds. Friends and comrades laughed as they held one another in jubilee. I was no exception. The Alamo soldiers were completely baffled by my appearance. Were their friends insane to bring a young girl into a war zone? Have they no shame? Even the few women at the Alamo were worried of my arrival. However, I've proven myself to be more than capable. Especially thanks to Bowie's recognition, no one questioned my stay except for a few men who still believe I was better off elsewhere instead of here.

Despite doubts, I'm thankful everyone within the Alamo was alright. Some of the soldiers were skinny and pale, but they were overall safe and sound. For now at least.

It was surprising they survived for this long. Less than two hundred Texans cooped up and protected behind sandstone ruins against an army of two thousand. For twelve excruciating days and cold, restless nights, these men are still here, stubborn, yet determined to hold down the fort. Their hopes and confidence still high amidst the gloom that surrounded them.

If only I felt the same way...

Sitting stiffly on a wobbly, birch stool, I was busy reloading a rifle when I heard a series of deep, nasty coughs interrupt me. I peered up at Jim's pale, sweaty face. The poor man lay underneath a layer of smelly, wool blankets, shivering from the chills. His sticky eyelids were barely open, constantly twitching like he was having a nightmare. I had tried to feed him a bowl of leftover broth. He barely ate the mediocre meal, lowly muttering how it tasted like swamp water before drifting off to sleep once again. As much as his crude comments made me chuckle, I couldn't help, but grow worried he'll stop dreaming before he could see our victory.

Since the second day of the siege, Jim under unfortunate circumstances fell ill. Laying in bed, still and sick, the fighter who came to fight the Mexicans instead was fighting a mysterious enemy, appearing to lose the battle with each day that passed. I asked everyone around the compound of his condition, asking if there is a cure of some sort that can aid him. Everyone, even the doctors, said there was nothing they could do for him. All that's left to do is to pray and hope Jim miraculously overcomes his illness. That's it. All I could do is pray.

I clenched my hands around the rifle.

It was devastating to know how helpless I am to help my mentor. It tore my heart into two. I watched with pitiful eyes, watching the poor man waste away. The unknown illness causing the pain within his body made me wish my lie of being a medic was true. As strong as he claimed, as much as his words reassure the disease was nothing to worry about, I could barely look at him. I could only hold his dusty hands and pray silently, afraid he would slip out of my small fingers the moment I look away. I bit my lip, shaking away such dark thoughts out of my head. Jim must've took notice for his eyes opened up some more, reaching for my hands with his own, patting them softly as to assure me he's okay.

"Hey kid. Want to hear a story?" his raspy voice murmured with a tiny twinkle in his tired eyes.

I didn't want him to talk. I wanted to refuse his offer, and tell him to rest instead. But I didn't have the heart to tell him.

Without hearing my answer, he told me the story anyway. "The day I arrived at the Alamo," he took a moment to breathe, "I was welcomed by everyone at the mission. Everyone knew of my reputation. All were praising of my arrival, and were following my lead. However, all of that began to change when young Travis arrived with his own reinforcements."

Jim coughed in his left arm before turning his head back to me. "Young Travis thought because he was assigned the title of commander he thought he had the right to order me around. Always telling me what to do and what not to do. Always telling me off not to drink all the time. Not to mention his lack of experience in commanding an army, I honestly don't know what the previous commander was thinking. Must be drunk out of his mind to place that boy in charge." He shook his head.

"Everyone else thought the same thing. They didn't like Travis in charge. Instead, they opt to follow me instead. I was clearly the better man to lead the army. Don't ya agree?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Travis can be a pain in the butt," I softly smiled, recalling yesterday morning when Travis scolded me for running with a gun in hand.

Jim softly chuckled. "Funny enough, Travis was so annoyed with my popularity, he called a vote by the men to pick between him, a scraggy boy, and me, an experienced soldier. When everyone aside from me and Travis voted for my leadership, Travis nearly lost his mind. You should've seen him. He was redder than a copperhead on fire let me tell ya. I swear he was throwing the biggest hissy-fit I've ever seen, kicking up a dust storm while I celebrated with everyone at the saloon."

I couldn't help but laugh at what he's telling me. Jim paused to let my laughter out before continuing the story. "After having a few beers-"

"You mean fifteen," I giggled.

He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I gotten so drunk, I could barely control myself. By the time I got a hold of myself the next morning, Travis was constantly on my back for the havoc I caused in town. I didn't listen to his whole spiel of my carelessness, but I knew his distrust of my leadership would come to bite me in the ass if I didn't cooperate with him. It's one thing to follow a grouchy prick. It's another to get that same prick to follow you. Ya know?"

I nodded.

"In the end, I '"let him"' settle on being joint commander of the army. He was somewhat pleased by the compromise, but my god he's still a pain the ass. If I wasn't tied down to this bed, I would've been-" He started coughing heavily as though he were chocking on his swollen throat.

I was about to call for help when he stopped me. "It's alright." Cough! "Just a minor fit," he assured me.

Despite his coughing calming down somewhat, I was still worried of his health nevertheless. The doctors believe he wouldn't last long since getting he disease, yet here he was, alive and breathing. Although in a weakened condition, his struggle to combat the disease was as impressive as his fights with ten men all-at-once. I wanted to believe he would get better and start fighting again. I wanted to say everything will turn out fine in the end.

I squeezed his hand. "I've gotten better with my shooting since you departed. My accuracy is nearly perfect, impressing Mr. Crockett so much he even offered me tips. You should've seen me out there." I smiled, trying to stay positive.

He glowered to my confusion. "You shouldn't have come here," he somberly muttered with disappointment.

I grew surprised by his remark. "I should've been here earlier," I insisted. "I'm sure we can make it out of this alive. We just need to-"

Jim shook his head. "Two thousand soldiers, armed and in better condition than our two hundred. If you think this siege is going to last forever, think again."

I stare down on his hands in guilt, tightening my grasp unintentionally. A solid minute passed in silence before Bowie spoke again.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm happy to see you alive and well. I'm not sure what your father was thinking allowing you to roam around the battlefields. At the very least, I can see you one last time before I go." My heart sank hearing his those last three words.

"No. You're right," I said. "I wasn't thinking when I left to help you and the rest of the army. All I could think of was protecting everyone."

Truly, I was foolish to think I, a little girl, can make a difference. I wasn't here for the full thirteen days, so I wasn't as battle scarred as most of the soldiers. Even though I saw a few battles here and there, I tried to stay hopeful for everyone's survival. How foolish I was to think war and death were two separate things.

Jim patted my hand. "You have a good heart, young lady," he breathed in a shallow voice, "I may not be around to see you grow up, but I'm certain this is not your last day here."

Before I could reply for him not to give up, I heard footsteps behind me. Turning my head around, a tall man wearing a raccoon-fur hat appeared at the entrance of the room.

"Commander Travis wants to see you," Davy said, gazing at me.

I look to Jim who made an assuring smile. "Can you give us a moment?" he asked his fellow soldier.

"No problem. I'll be outside waiting to escort you." Davy left the room, leaving Jim and I alone to ourselves.

I held onto Jim's hands, waiting for him to say something. Inhaling deep breath, Jim exhaled a heavy, coarse breath. "You've grown since the last time I saw you. The first time we met, you were a stupid kid who threw a pocket knife at me out of nowhere," he reminisced.

My cheeks grew rosy remembering such a memory. "I-I was trying to impress you. My hand slipped. T-That's all," I stuttered an excuse.

"Well, that same hand nearly slit my throat off," he reminded me, drawing his left finger across his neck to add to the embarrassing moment. "I took the liberties not to press charges since your father was already scolding your ear by the time I showed up for an apology."

"You have no idea the torture I went through because of you..."

"After that, you kept pestering me to teach you how to use a knife. Even after I left town, you followed after me like a puppy dog. Always yapping for me to teach you dangerous stuff. I kept telling you to head back home, but no. You just had to cling to my leg. God, you were an annoying brat."

"A persistent, annoying brat," I clarified.

He smirked. "I remember the day I decided to train you. You were jumping around making the loudest noises like a crazy monkey. And like a crazy monkey, your throw and aim was all over the place."

"It wasn't that bad."

"You nearly killed my horse who was standing twenty yards behind you."

"I stand by my word."

He rolled his eyes. "Luckily, you improve with every lesson. I even gave you shooting lessons. All of this I done for you without getting paid."

"It was worth it." I huff my chest.

"For you," he scoffed. "In the end, I had to leave you with your father due to my services being needed for the revolution." He paused for a moment to cough in his arm. "I thought I would never see you again. But then here you are sitting next to my death bed. Hard to believe this will be the last time we see each other," he chuckled in a low, sarcastic voice.

His last sentence set me off uneasy. "What are you talking about?" I questioned.

Jim lifted his right index finger, guiding my eyes to where he was pointing. At the foot of his cot was a dusty, wooden chest. "I have a gift I was meaning to give you after your last lesson. I want you to have it."

Hesitating for a moment, I steadily got off my stool, placing my rifle at his bedside while I went to search the chest. I opened the creaky lid to find Bowie's belongings. Alongside a rifle, a pistol, worn clothes, and his famous Bowie knife, there was a strange package wrapped in a cotton bandages. Assuming this was the gift, I grabbed the item, feeling the dense weight of it before closing the lid of the chest.

Setting myself back on the stool, Jim watched me unwrap the long strands of white cloth. After unraveling about ten feet of cotton ribbons, I made out the shape of a large blade and hilt. There was probably about three more feet of cloth wrapped around the weapon, but I didn't bother to unwrap the present. My hands were busy gripping the hilt, trembling slightly whether out of jubilation or desperation.

Ashamed, I lowered my head, turning slightly away to wipe my eyes. His right hand fell upon the top of my head, softly ruffling my messy, black hair.

"Thank you... Thank you so much..." I sniffled.

Jim softly smiled, "You better get going. Travis is waiting for you and he doesn't have all day," he reminded me.

I nodded. "I'll take good care of it. I promise." I wrapped the knife back up in my hands.

Carefully, I went up to embrace my mentor. The deathly, sickening aroma surrounding him was nauseous to my head, but my body refused to shudder an ounce of fear. The hug was less than warm, almost cold, yet his heart was still beating, stronger than ever. I quickly notice a lack of muscle to his usually bulky body, feeling his ribs poking out against my body, but I didn't complain. It was tragic to think he ended up this way, yet I was grateful to see him smiling despite the pain he was going through. All for my sake I suppose.

Letting go was difficult, but I needed to be on my way. Slinging my rifle behind my back, I strapped the knife to the left side of my leather belt and started my departure. Jim waved me off as I waved back, watching him over my shoulder while making my way outside. 

Poking my head out the door, I turned my head left to see Davy standing by the doorway. He noticed my appearance and turned to face me, giving me an apologetic look.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

I silently nodded in response.

Following alongside him, he led me to where Travis was in the compound. While following him, we passed by a couple of exhausted soldiers along the way. Most of them were sleeping, some laying down against the barricades while others slept while sitting up against the walls of the Alamo. Although relieved to finally get some sleep after the halt of gunfire, no one was truly at ease. While a peaceful night, everyone was on edge in a sense of the inevitable danger outside the complex. On watch in the middle of a dark, freezing, early morning, on guard for twelve straight days and nights, a moment's rest shouldn't be underestimated. But so far in the last few hours since ten, not a gunshot was heard. All was calm in midst of the storm.

Something's right. What are they planning?

"I'm surprised to see a young girl like you roaming the area," Davy interrupt my observance of the tired, hungry soldiers. "Such girls should be elsewhere instead of here. Still, I'm impressed how you managed to make it this far."

"I'm tougher than I look," I bragged. "As long as I can shoot, I'm here to fight alongside everyone here."

The coon-wearing man smiled. "You remind me of this young boy when I was back in the States. Trent was slightly older than you, but he had the same interest in guns and hunting as you."

Despite only knowing him for two days, Davy made quite an impression on me. Upon being introduced to one another, he was impressed with my skills, often asking me about my knowledge on rifles and weapons of the sort. I was willing to oblige on showing him my skills like the awesome shooter that I am. Overall, I'm quite thankful for his men's assistance in the siege. I didn't see them pull their shots during my two days here, but I heard from the others they were bulls-eye accurate in keeping the enemy at bay. Who knows where this army would be without their help?

"Your son probably misses you very much," I softly smiled.

Davy chuckled, confusing me for a moment if I said something funny. "The young boy I mentioned is technically not my son."

I blushed. "S-Sorry. I assumed since you have a family," I flustered, trying to correct myself.

"It's alright. In a sense, he's a part of the family now since I left for the revolution. Honestly, I kinda regret not telling him when I was leaving."

I quirked a brow hearing his last sentence. "Why didn't you tell him?"

He breathed out a tired sigh. "Since telling my family my decision to fight in this war, Trent was acting all...strange to put it bluntly," he softly smiled, quietly appearing to recall some nostalgic memories. "I don't want him to be too caught up with my decision. The letter I left for him should clarify my actions, so hopefully he understands my reasons. He's a young boy on the verge of manhood. I want him to ready himself for a time when I'm gone from his life. At least, that's my reason for not telling him."

I frowned. "But...you'll see him again. Right?"

He shrugged. "Depends."

I stopped in my tracks. "Why did you come here?" I questioned, stopping Davy from taking another step. "Miles away from home. Participating in a foreign war. Fighting for a country that's not your own. Why leave the comforts of your home for...this?" I gestured toward the front of the Alamo, to the depressed soldiers, and toward the starry sky beyond the bullet-ridden walls of the mission.

It was understandable for people to fight for their home. A home is a place we sought peace, prosperity, comfort, family, happiness, freedom, and such. From what I knew of Davy, he had a home. He lived a peaceful, comfortable life as a government representative and lived a prosperous life with a loving family. All the freedom he could've spent hunting white-tailed deer and black bears was instead spent on my war. A war far, far away from Tennessee. To see such normal men outside the borders of my home come to fight in this war was beyond reckless.

It was stupid.

Staring at me with a serious complexion for a moment, Davy abruptly turned his head back to where we were heading, continuing to walk ahead. "Like any other settler who came here. For the land," he simply answered.

I scrunch my face at the selfish answer. Sure, land is promised for volunteering, but only if we won. I can never understand such benefits. Probably because I lived here all my life and never saw the place to be of much value.

"Aren't you afraid of dying?" I asked concerned, walking alongside him again.

"And you?"

I was taken back by the question. Can I die? Surely I lived a long life, but can I die? I heard of countries disappearing. But being riddled with bullet holes, can that kill a country?

"Um... I... I don't know. I never thought about dying," I confessed.

A sigh came out of him. "Americans tend to think about fighting rather than dying. All for freedom you see."

"Freedom," I muttered to myself.

The word stuck to my mind like a sweet candy. Such an idea I heard of, but never experienced. Which is why I was leaving Mexico. To have this freedom. To taste it for myself.

Following Davy to a storage building, he left me alone while going elsewhere within the compound. I watched him be on his way before heading inside. The moment I stepped into the small room, I faced the young commander's back who was busying himself to moving boxes of ammunition, taking count on what was left after the recent fight.

The young, dark-haired man was in his early twenties when I first met him. At the time, he was an unsuccessful lawyer struggling with debt with a desire to start over, promising my father he'll work very hard to repay his debt in exchange for some land. His argument convinced my father, and he kept his word. Not only did he set up his own law firm, but he also worked with my father as a part of the council and military. Despite a few disturbances he caused, I appreciate his hardworking character and support for my independence.

However, he can be a dick sometimes. Since the day I got here, he always ordered me to do petty chores instead of guarding the barricades like the rest of the soldiers. I mean, for goodness's sake I'm capable of doing more than peeling potatoes and cooking swampy soup! I even asked Davy in my stead to convince him to let me stand with him at the front lines, but he still wouldn't let me. This is my war for crying out loud! Especially with our lack of manpower, he needs every person to fire upon the enemy. What good is having an able soldier fetch water? Nada (Nothing)!  

"You call for me, sir?" I interrupt his counting.

Travis looked over his shoulder to see me at the doorway before fully turning around to face me. He took a second to observe me from the top of my hat to the bottom of boots before commenting, "Out of all the people to show up, I'm still shocked they sent a little girl as a part of the reinforcements."

I crossed my arms and huffed, "I'm no little girl."

"Sassy as usual." He sighed. "Still can't believe Austin's little missy had the balls to barge through enemy lines without a second thought. Not sure whether to call ya gutsy or damn stupid."

"I say gutsy."

Travis ignored me. He took a few seconds to move two three-legged stools from the corner of the storage room and place them at the center, one toward me and other on his side.

"Sit," he ordered.

I stood where I was. "That's all right. I'll stand."

He scowled. "I am not going to talk while staring up at you, little missy. Better sit or else."

"Or else what?" I stood my ground.

Travis heaved an irritated sigh. "I don't have time for such childish nonsense. I have something to say, and I prefer we sit down as respectful individuals. If you want to stand, fine. But this is a long talk I'm giving you, so I recommend you sit."

I grumbled curses to myself before sitting myself down like he said. Once I sat on the hard, wooden seat, Travis went ahead to sit down as well. Two feet apart in this clustered storage room, I waited impatiently to hear what he had to say.

"How's Bowie?" he asked.

I quirked a brow at the question. "He's fine. He said he's going to help y'all beat up those Mexicans once he gets better."

"Is that so?"

"He also told me how you were being a pissy boy when the men chose him over you as their commander, and how he let you be joint commander of the army," I snickered.

He glowered at my laughter. "I was placed in charge of this mission, but then he had to complicate the matter by refusing to listen to me."

"I could see why."

"Don't push me."

"Anyway, what is it ya to say to me that's important?"

I noticed his eyes darting down to the left side of my belt. "What's that ya got there?"

Gripping the knife tightly, I glared at him. "It's mine."

His brow furrowed. "Did you take that from Bowie?"

My jaw dropped to hear his accusation. Did he really think I would go that far in committing immoral theft on someone who basically raised me? "Of course not, asshole! Jim gave me the knife as a gift!" I yelled.

Travis disapprovingly shook his head. "You shouldn't be allowed to wield such a unsafe weapon. Not to mention be taught how to use a gun. I don't know what Bowie was thinking teaching you such dangerous things. Now that I think about it, I can see where you get your personality from," he ridiculed.

I growled, "If you're saying Bowie shouldn't be teaching me these things, I'll gladly use what he taught me to cut your balls off."

"You even curse like Bowie. No wonder I've been getting ticked off seeing you roam around like you own this place."

I couldn't believe what he's saying. Here I thought he wanted to talk to me about our next strategy or assign me an important task. Instead, I was arguing and defending Jim's methods for teaching me such brutish acts of violence. Now I see why Jim didn't follow him in the first place. Such an dickhead.

"Look. If you're saying I shouldn't be fighting, then let me tell you something: you're wrong."

The young commander a tired groan. "You're a chi-"

"I'm no child!" I interrupt him. "Nor am I a little missy! I can shoot as well as Davy, so let me be out there with my rifle and shoot those bastards! The enemy has us outnumbered by the thousands! Instead, you have my gun-wielding hands be used on carrot peelers! Let me fight, and I'll be sure to make a difference!"

He scowled. "You aren't going to fight. You aren't suppose to be here. Nor do I want to see you on the ground covered in blood."

I scoffed. "I will fight. I don't care what you say. This is not only my war, but this is also my battle. I have every right to wield my gun and use it as I may wish. If you think being commander makes you in charge then let me tell you your spine is as crooked as those Mexicans."

He narrowed his eyes at me. "As much as I want to whoop your butt for that offense, I'm your commander. My order still stands. You'll not fight along the front lines."

I gritted my teeth. "You're not even listening to me, are you? Just because of my small stature, it doesn't make me vulnerable! Jim taught me enough to defend myself, and I will see that my strength be used for good!"

"Missy, please stop-"

"No, I won't! Stop telling me what to do! If you think you can convince me to sit behind the sidelines I-"

"SHUT UP DAMN IT!"

My body flinched and my voice retreated to the back of my throat. Everything became silent after he said that.

I didn't realize I was shaking until he placed his hand on my knee. I shuddered, and he quickly lifted his hand in response. His eyes softened, looking somewhat guilty and uncomfortable around the room for a brief moment to ease the tension.

"Sorry," he apologized in a low, tired voice. I was unable to respond immediately before he continued, "I... I didn't mean to offend your skills. You are...quite talented like the others. In fact, you may be better than most of the soldiers here. You look...twelve maybe thirteen years of age. You're still young and I hate to see a chi- you getting shot by those Mexicans. It'll break my heart to see you die here. Nor can I face your father if I failed to protect you. I'm glad to see you alive since your sudden arrival, and I do appreciate your assistance. But this place is no place for a missy. Or, for anyone for that matter."

After hearing his apology and explanation, I wanted to accuse him of spewing out lies. I already had enough of those. His talk reminded me of Jim, the same tone of hopelessness and pitiful truth involved in this war. Unlike Jim, however, he was put in charge of the whole situation, in charge of a standoff at a disadvantage. The stress lines under his dark eyes were now recognizable from where I sat.

What he said, now that I think about it, was somewhat true. Putting myself in danger rather than stay at the convention is a dumb thing to do. I could've been sleeping soundly in a comfy bed and eat daily meals. Instead, I opt to risk my safety in a battle that may or may not have me come out alive. If I did get injured, I would've become more of a burden than an asset, thus putting more lives in jeopardy. Is that why Travis put me off to the side?

I swallowed a large lump in my throat. "I-I'm sorry, too," I apologized in an awkward mumble. "I was also told earlier, by Jim, that I wasn't suppose to be here. You're right. I wasn't suppose to be here. But I didn't want to let y'all down and let y'all face the Mexicans alone. I thought coming here was the best thing I could do to help. I didn't think about dying. Nor did I think at all..."

He softly smiled. "It's okay. I appreciate your consideration."

I bit my lip, puffing up my warm cheeks. "And you..putting me to do small tasks like cleaning the barracks offended me. Jim taught me to shoot and knife fight, so I was hoping to use those skills to help y'all. I don't mind fetching water or cooking, but I feel like I could do more to help. And yet, you didn't give me a chance. I don't like to be treated like some innocent, dumb child. I know we're at war and that dying is possible. But if I'm going to die, I'm going to die fighting with everyone to the best of my abilities." I stare at him with determination in my mixed-colored eyes.

Travis shifted his position in his chair. "You shouldn't be saying those things. You have a long life ahead of you."

"A life under Mexico," I muttered in a dark tone.

Travis lightly patted my shoulder. "We'll win this. I'll be sure the damn Mexicans don't touch a single hair on that little head of yours. No matter what." He gave off a promising look.

I softly smiled. "And I, too, will make sure the damn Mexicans don't get away with this. We'll win for sure. We'll make it out of this. Together," I said as we share a laugh together.

I don't think I've ever heard him laugh before. Life as a commander in a stand-still was a role filled with little laughter, one filled with stress and sometimes gloom. Yet, I could see in his dark brown eyes the determination to win. Despite the cards being stacked against him, Travis still hoped for a miracle whether in the form of reinforcements or Santa Anna's army getting swept up in a catastrophic tornado. Either possibility could change the tides of war. Until either of those things happen, we're still here. We just need to wait a little longer.

When the laughter died down, Travis calmly cast his eyes on me. A serious complexion coming back to his young face as though he was recalling memories of the peaceful days before the siege. For sure, he was ready to tell me something serious. I've been in serious talks before, but the way his eyes darkened gave me a sense of dread. Something was wrong. My heart throbbed in guilt, afraid to hear what he has to say. I could only stare at him, waiting for the news he was about to tell me.

While I expected for him to say a word, Travis instead got up from his seat. His hand reached over to the top of one of the shelves, grabbing a small, brown, leather, burlap bag. He then went back to sit on the stool with the bag in his hands.

"I'm surprised we lasted this long, little missy," Travis chortled in disbelief, rubbing the back of his sore neck. The young man then proceeded to give me the bag. To my hesitation, I accepted his offering.

I was dumbfounded. "Travis. What's the meaning of this?" I open the bag to find half a loaf of bread, a steel canteen, a small ammo box, and a small, forest green sack. Opening the green sack, I discovered about two hundred pieces of silver inside. What was he-

"Do you think that one man would've made a difference?" Travis interrupt my thoughts.

I recalled today, hours ago in the dying daylight, a single man leaving us when Travis drew a line in the dirt and made his declaration for anyone wishing to leave.

"We need all the men we can get. Of course it would matter. What are you trying to say?" I was baffled by his strange attitude.

Travis, placing a hand on my shoulder, looked at me sternly. Then, I realized, without hearing a word come out of his mouth, his true intentions. I couldn't believe him. What a selfish man.

"I need you to leave," he told me the truth of his intentions.

Instantly, I stood up, shaking my head furiously in disbelief. "N-No... No! Why would I leave?! These men are fighting for me! I want to stay here with you and defend this place! I'm not going to be a damn coward and run! I-"

"Who said you were a coward?!" Travis yelled, stopping my crackling voice from straining any further.

Staring down on his distraught figure, I then got another realization. He wasn't the only person to say this...

I kicked the wall and let out a loud curse. "Damn it, Travis! We'll make it out through this siege! I know we will! Me, you, Davy, Jim, all of us! We'll win! We just need to endure and wait out a little longer! I'm sure reinforcements will come! They have to! They just have to..." I kept going with my excuses, pacing back and forth in the small storage room. 

Rather than stop me from cussing in such an immature manner, Travis silently allowed me to rant out my rage. Whether he was listening or not, I was given time to take in the news. By the end of it, I was sitting back on the stool, slumped over in my seat, listening to him again.

"We'll endure as long as we can. For now, you need to get away from here before it's too late." Travis lifted his hand up to my cheek.

I realized a tear had fallen out of my blue eye, slowly dribbling down the right side of my face. I shoved his hand away and shielded my eyes with my left arm, attempting to keep my composure. Peering up from my arms, I caught a glimpse of Travis's smile.

"You are one of the bravest women I've ever met. I'm very proud to have met you. Yet, I think it's about time we part ways." His last sentence stabbed my heart, nearly killing me.

The young man slowly got off the stool to comfort me in his arms. I caught a whiff of rum emitting strongly off his chin. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to cry. But even then, tears continued to flow and dampen his chest.

"Damn it. Where are the damn reinforcements? Can't they see we're going to lose?" I whimpered.

"We know. Everyone will know soon. If we're going to lose, I'm going to at least give them two more bullets before dying." He gave a small chuckle.

I shook my head. "Don't say that! I'm sure if you surrender, they'll take you in as a prisoner of war."

He shook his head. "Like I let a Mexican scumbag make me kneel before him." Travis patted my head as he stood up. 

Gunshots and trumpet music suddenly appear in the air. With Travis, we left in a calm panic out of the storage room to see everyone shuffling in the dark to the abrupt noise. For sure it was the enemy on the assault again. I turn to Travis to see a fiery determination in his eyes and a smoky cloak surrounding his body. I couldn't help but cling onto his waist, surprising my commander with my clingy nature.

"Don't go! You'll die!" I protested.

"Leave before they fully come at us." He tried to push me away, but I refused.

"I'm staying!"

"Don't be stupid!"

"I'm not stupid!"

"Leave, idiot!"

"No!"

"Damn it, missy! Let go of me!"

"No! I won't abandon you!"

"Come on, missy!"

"No! Never!"

"Tex... Please."

"But-"

"Texas." Travis gave me a stern look as I pouted stubbornly.

In the end, I was forced to accept his decision. I bit my lip once more. Very hard. Tasting blood.

"Tell Jim I hope he gets better," I whispered as Travis softened his face.

Another gun shot was heard followed by a mixed chorus of English and Spanish screams.

"And Davy. Tell him I appreciate his help and support for my revolution," I whimpered, trying not to break down. 

"And...William." I took a step passed him.

As I faced away from his, to my painful frustration I couldn't stop the hot, violent tears from streaming down my cold face. Begrudgingly, I attempted to smile. It came out small and crooked, but it was enough to reassure myself from breaking down in front of him.

"... Thank you for commanding my men. I swear to you, William B. Travis. You'll all be remembered in history for your heroic efforts. Travis, I thank you." My voice wavered from saying anymore.

He sternly nodded with a slim smile streaked across his rugged face. Not an ounce of his smile was purely happy. There was pity and sadness. But there was also promise, hope, and acceptance. Such a smile haunted me. I didn't have the courage to look at him any longer. I simply closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and ran away, leaving the young commander alone to do his duty. Heading in opposite directions of the complex, our destinies became separated on that day.

Knowing my time was limited, I left running as fast as I can. Behind the Alamo I escaped, out to an area of wilderness where the Mexican soldiers haven't reached yet, running far, far away from here, knowing my brave men will defend the Alamo for me.

☆☆☆☆☆

+ The Siege/Battle of the Alamo was a pivotal event in the Texas Revolution that took over the course of thirteen days from February 23 to March 6, 1836. Anyone who knows either Texas history or U.S. history can guess how this event ends. Despite this battle's ending, it's important to understand the circumstances of this battle and how much of an impact on those who were involved in the event. Which was why I decided to write more about the siege than the battle itself. Without a doubt, this historical event will have a continuation, so look forward to that in the future.

- Alamo defenders such as Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett, and William B. Travis became famous after their heroic stand against General Santa Anna's larger army. Cities, counties, landmarks, and various cultural works usually feature them as larger-than-life figures. I'm sure my Texas OC appreciates their heroism for helping her and misses them very much.

+ On another note, I'll be featuring a Mexico OC in some of Texas's stories considering the country had an impact on Texas's life. Obviously, Texas sees him as the bad guy in her revolution, but it's important to know Mexico itself isn't necessarily a 'bad' guy. I hope to flesh out more of their role in the Texas Revolution in the future. For now, just know Mexico isn't aware of Texas being at the siege, nor is Texas aware he's participating in this battle at all. Again, look forward to the continuation of this story to see what happens next.

~

Feel free to vote or comment any thoughts on Texas or the chapter here.