All I can hear is the birds chirping along the breezy trees. The smell of mud captures the atmosphere as the dewy morning ground sits. The taste of the ham and cheese kolache I had for breakfast sits in my mouth while my tongue still weeps in pain from the immense heat of the kolache entering my mouth. I open my eyes to see darkness. I am alone.

It is six in the morning and I find myself sitting uncomfortably in a tree. Yes, that’s right, a tree. I am sitting in a bow blind that is mounted onto a tree at six in the morning in hopes that a curious deer happens to wander upon the wrong feeder and introduce itself to me. Me, Hays Chaney. A thirteen-year-old boy who is hunting alone for the first time; scared shitless as he is alone in the trees just about fifteen minutes from the border of Mexico.

Being fifteen minutes away from the border might not sound scary to some, but on the ranch I'm hunting on there are groups of illegal immigrants found every single week. I, as a thirteen-year-old boy, isn't exactly fond of the idea that a group of ten people chasing freedom in America might come across my path at six in the morning.  Who knows what they are carrying and what their intentions are? For all, I know they could be carrying rocket launchers and have a bounty on my head.

Anyways, let’s get back to the point. I am a frightened child who is on his first hunt alone and is full of paranoia and nerves. I am getting scared of the littlest things such as the whistle of the morning wind, and it gives me the feeling that someone is watching my every move. It feels like midnight considering how dark it is and how tired I am however it’s six in the morning. Yes, that's right at six in the morning. Keep in mind that I am a young teenager, which is why my whining over being up at six in the morning is acceptable. According to my dad the earlier the better when it comes to hunting, so why not wake up at six to optimize my chances of success?

In this hunt for me, success is defined as killing a deer. I know, it may sound greedy or psycho for a thirteen-year-old boy to be saying that, but it’s just part of a hunter's lifestyle. I had nothing planned for dinner and was completely dependent on the outcome of this hunt. Once again, yes. I know what you must be thinking.

“How can a thirteen-year-old boy who barely just learned how to tie his shoes without having Velcro on them be independent and powerful enough to dictate what he has for dinner?”

Which is a valid question to ask, because it is most likely not true. I doubt my family would let me starve if I didn't achieve my version of success after this hunt. But the mindset was worth it. The mindset of having to be successful in order to eat was engraved into my head which made me eager to kill a deer and have perseverance through my hunt.

The sun was beginning to rise, and I was finally able to have some sort of visibility. Bright lights soon began to blind me as the sun continued to rise and was shining right into my eyes. I felt like a deer in headlights, in the sense that I was being blinded -not that I was clueless- of course. The birds continued to chirp and the fragrance of mud was still polluting the surrounding area. I swear that is literally all I can smell.

“ERRRRRRRRR!”  Out of nowhere. The feeder goes off, spewing corn out in every direction and making a sound so loud I thought a gun had just shot off near me.

I jump out of the tree stand, nearly fall out of the tree and am almost certain that my soul has left my body. Not once in my life can I recall ever being scared sh*tless besides now. I may sound like a baby but trust me you had to be there. The sound was way too loud to be coming out of nowhere unannounced, and I am fairly confident I will have PTSD from loud noises throughout the rest of my life now.

Thanks to the feeder going off, I am now aware it is 7:15 am and the deer should be showing up soon. However, my mind isn’t really on the deer anymore. Due to my life flashing before my eyes because of the massive jump scare the feeder gave me, I am now solely thinking about whether it is worth it to kill an innocent deer just for my satisfaction. It’s kind of like urbanizing new plots of land into neighborhoods.

Building new urban neighborhoods and killing deer are similar in the sense that both affect the well-being of innocent elements of nature for personal satisfaction. When building an urban neighborhood on a plot of land, trees and all sorts of wildlife have their habitat stripped from them just for the pure satisfaction of humans. People only think about the revenue they can make off of a project rather than the consequences nature and many innocent animals have to face as side effects of human decisions. This all relates to deciding whether to kill a deer because it has similar pros and cons. The pros of killing a deer are profitable considering food and a sense of pride, but the cons are ending an innocent life just for personal dopamine. Sure it would be nice to show my friends the deer I just killed, and be able to eat a deserved meal, but is it really worth ending an innocent animal's life?

All of a sudden, a massive twelve point walks into the pin. My heart drops. This is the biggest deer that I have ever seen in person and I cannot believe it. The thoughts of letting a deer walk have completely left my mind as I am now in the presence of a trophy buck. I am literally in awe at how huge this beast in front of me is. I am currently freaking out due to the adrenaline in my veins bursting through my blood like the snail from the movie Turbo. I begin to slow my breaths to calm myself down and normalize my heart rate as I feel I may die of a heart attack any second from now.

“Focus,” I tell myself internally.

I am aware that this may be the biggest buck I ever see in my whole life and don’t want to lose the opportunity of shooting the deer of a lifetime.

The deer has been in the pin for about five minutes now, and all I am waiting on is for him to turn broadside, so I have an easy shot. I can hear him munching down the corn on the ground that was spewed out of the feeder so vividly it sounds like ASMR. His brown fur coat was so thick I couldn’t tell if he was physically wearing a mink coat over his natural fur coat or not. He had a roman nose which gave me the green light to shoot him because that is a sign of maturity within a deer which gave me a good idea that he was an elder. All I was waiting for was the time now. The time he turns broadside, I can take the shot.

The moment is now. The trophy buck turns his body broadside and I now must capitalize on this once-in-a-lifetime, golden opportunity. I begin to draw my bow back and slow my breaths once again. It is best to be calm and steady to give yourself the best chance of making a good shot. My left eye winks as I am eyeing on where I wanted to shoot him. Aimed in right behind his front shoulder, where his heart should be.

I have the shot all lined up. I am right about to release the bow and suddenly my conscience speaks to me.

“Is this the right decision, Hays?”

“Remember the pros and cons?”

I ignore my conscience as I come to the realization that this opportunity will never present itself again, and I cannot pass on it.

I slowly breathe in, with my eye sharply aimed right behind his front shoulder. I calmly exhale and release the arrow.

“THUMP!”

Success.