They Come

They're coming.  And I can't stop them.

The security system doesn't matter.  They won't do anything to stop what's coming.  Even they are afraid of what's headed my way.

Having a gun won't help me.  What they possess can damage me far more than my rifle.

No persuasion will stop them.  No faith, no lawyer, no politician.  They can not be reasoned with.

If only we would have recognized what they were earlier, maybe we would have stood a chance.

Not now.

Now it is too late.

They're coming for me, and they can't be stopped.

An hour ago, I got the message from my friend, Warren.  He was the last one of my group that they had already come for.  He said they had decided to come for me next, and I had less than an hour to escape.

I made my wife and children leave, sending them to go to Aunt Suzi's.  I did not want them here when they came for me.  They were crying and clung to me.  My wife knew she would never see me again.  Eventually, bitterly, tearfully, she accepted reality and left with the children.

I wish I could get away, but I know better.  Once they target you, it's over.  There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.  Even if you manage to escape at first, they will come for those you love, and they will be at risk until they can have you.

They thirst for you.  They want to devour you.  They want to silence you forever.

I stand on the front porch.  Waiting.

Then I hear the sounds.  They're coming.  My heart is pounding.  Maybe I'll save everyone the trouble and have a heart attack before they come.

Then they are here.  An evil swarm, so thick I can barely see anything else.

Their pack leader stepped forward.  "Thomas M. Strait?"

Why pretend?  They already knew.  It was a rhetorical snarl, nothing more.  "Yes," I replied.

"Did you post yesterday an inciteful statement scandalously attacking our beloved Father?"  They moved closer, the odor like a sulfuric furnace.

"I said that I didn't believe special education should be abandoned, yes.  That's all I stated."

The pack leader's eyes were yellow and angry.  "You made it seem like the Father was the problem.  That he didn't care about the poor retarded children, and how humane it would be to phase them out of the stresses of associating with the healthy and vibrant.  You actually advocated that we should take away resources from our hard-working citizens, and give it in a foolish attempt to educate the uneducable."

"He's wrong.  The Father is wrong.  What he suggests is inhumane and cruel and immoral."

They gasped collectively.  One raised his weapon, ready to end my misery.

"Stop!"  he barked.  "Don't shoot this scum, this enemy of the people!!  Let our system decide.  We are a nation of laws, are we not?"

He came up to me, inches away from my face.  Yes, he was human.  That just makes it all that more frightening, that one human being could do this to another.  But maybe it's not so strange.  Hasn't that been the history, the shame, the intolerant horror of mankind?

"You have three days to publicly confess.  If you don't, you will face the Ultimate Punishment."  Death by hanging.  Yes, I know.  I also know that, whether I confess or not, they would end my life.  Shot and dumped.  I don't see why they think everyone doesn't already know this.

They put shackles on me and put me in their prison van.

Don't get all confident that you can avoid my errors and survive.

They came for me.

They're coming for you next.