Chapter 6-Booming Silence
I’m getting the medal of Honor today.
I knew that it would come soon enough, people are too stupid to believe that my actions “aren’t” self-service. No one would think about the bigger picture, they’d focus on the fact that I am a young man named Milo Walker and I have killed many people for my country. They focus on that because they’re told to focus on it.
They will believe that I showed bravery in combat, and that I deserve to be recognized for my great service to my country. That I deserve to be recognized on live national television, in front of the entire nation because they are followers, and they do not think for themselves. They will pay for that today.
But of course they wouldn’t see the dire issue with their choices. The audience wouldn’t understand what we, you and I, understand. They’ve made a grave mistake, and they won’t know until it’s too late.
Maybe there’s nothing involving the recognition of bravery at all. Maybe it’s an excuse to congratulate a person so torn up in there own self hatred in hopes that they won’t spread the evil they’ve seen to the much needed future foot soldiers.
Maybe, maybe, maybe...
But that’s just me, that’s just the opinion of the only sane person on this planet. I say that because the fear isn’t a person. Your guess is as good as mine as to what the fear is, but never doubt how it’s genuineness, it’s tangibility, how real it physically feels inside your head.
Also, please begin to doubt that I will be traveling to hell alone after today, and the killing I’m going to do actually will be for my country, for the eventual benefit of everyone in it anyway.
As you should already have gathered, my fear will be moving on to more than one person after my shift is up.
That is my purpose, to speed up this dreadfully important process.
As I stand on the podium they have so graciously given me upon my request, I try to decide what I’m going to say to them, to the people who are no longer mine.
What do you say to those who won’t listen? How do you convince someone that the enemy they should be fighting is their own damning stupidity?
As I put on my best sincere face or more so mask, I stare directly into the camera as if it were truly the eyes of my audience and begin my speech of last words.
“What if we were to think of ourselves as anything but sinners?” I felt a shift in the air as the tension in my head spills into the space around me, freeing my mind but encapturing my body. As if it has made it impossible to take a step from the podium.
“It’s difficult to not find sin in everything you do when every basic human instinct runs with it. If people continue to see themselves as a lost cause, they’ll look to the next best thing to guide them in the right direction.” I’ve lost them. They won’t get it, I’ve already lost this battle to my own mind.
“You are the problem, but they-” I gesture towards the political leeches behind me- “are not the solution.”
I turn back to look straight at the camera, willing it and everyone seeing what it sees to understand my point.
“I’m a hypocrite to ask you to listen to me as I spew venom at every thing that has stood before you and said the exact same ‘I am who you should listen to’ lecture, but here’s the difference between them and me, I should not and do not feel shame.”
I look down at my hands that are grasping at the edges of the podium, I fear that it might break, much like my will just did.
I wonder why no one has stopped me. Whether it’s from curiosity as to what I’m going to say next or utter shock, I’m thankful nonetheless.
My fear is thankful nonetheless.
“Don’t trust yourself, it’s not your conscience that I’m after. I want you to find that voice, the one you haven’t heard since you were a child. The one that seems utterly senseless and childish beyond your missing imagination.
I know the juvenility of it all must scare you, but trust me, there’s nothing to fear from yourselves, only the people you harmfully choose to listen to.”
As I stare into the camera long after I’ve stopped talking I bite down on the (body) cavity bomb hidden between my teeth. I’m waiting for the inevitable as I hear the crunch that might as well be the sound of a cannon pointed right at my head.
I wonder how long it takes.
I wonder how many people it will kill.
I wonder how many families are watching this, how many are going to see my head explode along with everything else.
I wonder if this contribution will be enough to see fear through.
I know I’ve done right by it, but as the final milliseconds pass before there’s not enough of my head left to separate from my body, the fear leaves and time forever stops.
And I know what hell really feels like.