The Ultimate Decision

The blind eye turns outward, looking away from the obvious. Yet no one sees anything, hears anything, nor knows anything and it is important that someone says something.

It plays your mind like a pinball machine, the balls hitting the sides and falling down the chute so you can be played again. It plays your nerves like you are a fiddle or a guitar, hitting high notes only to slowly ever so slowly come down.

You fall backwards and can't seem to sit upright, you try to stand and fall back like you are intoxicated, like you have drunk too much and have dry heaves. You finally stand up only to fall over once more.

You are ready to pull your hair out of your head, even though you only have little hair to be pulled, so you then start to bite your fingernails, hoping to make them bleed, and making sure it will pour out onto the street.

You are not sure of the day or the hour or even the month or year. You are faced with the one dilemma, of either lying outright or telling the truth, which will leave you without respect or even a way to face anyone who will ask you questions.

Oh, the damn questions, always the damn questions. The ones that need to be asked, yet at the right time. "But when is the right time?"

The right time, the wrong time are all blurred by the idea that when you begged and pleaded, begged some more, and pleaded some more, until you offered your first born up as a sacrifice, it still didn't matter to them.

You made sacrifices and gave repeatedly. You were willing to take the fall, yes even take the blame for this because others were not willing to openly admit it was their fault, it was them who should be blamed and held accountable for this and all the other horrific things they were guilty of.

You offered them something you thought they could not refuse, your resignation. It was a huge chance on yourself, yet they wanted more like a blackmailer. You knew they were not ready to take you up on that idea at first. They just grinned and made you sit to sweat it out.

The lowest of the lowest. The dirtiest lowdown garbage that had ever held such high positions in government. The ones who had bribed their way to the top and won. The ones who thought they were invincible and above the law. The ones with blood, their own and the blood of others who were innocent and stood in their way.

You stood there and watched them do a hatched job on those who were either unaware of the consequences, or decided to look the other way, ignoring the consequences as though they never mattered.

No one was out of the reach of those who devoured others and yet they wanted to be at the top of the heap. Those that survived were always taken down in the end. It came a time when most were either afraid to take them on, or were not willing to risk it all, especially when it failed for them.

The risk was great, the losses many and the rewards were only trickling in at first, until those placed in power, opened the flood gates, and poured upon the city that it once swore to protect, turning this into a blood bath of innocence and destruction to all.

It was when the people who were in charge stepped aside and allowed all the various things to happen, to allow all the crimes to be committed and to be done with the sleight of hand and with the right money.

Even those who were considered rich before, were made poor overnight, they were stripped of their lives and their own belongings, all in one swoop. It made no difference where you were or what you were at this point.

The lines blurred with each passing of the guard and allowed one to feel they could destroy and make you less than you were no matter what the cost.

I was once one of those who would cause you great pain, would throw you in jail for the smallest of crimes no matter what the reason was. I inflicted fear and panic on all sides in hopes you would bow down and show me respect.

You would know I meant what I was saying to you, even if nothing was said, even once, and you knew I was serious, when I showed you the handcuffs. Most cowards go away or would try to stay and fight, always losing.

Some were smart or devised full proof plans that were found out about and then all would perish when they were not able to fight against the very system, they elected to work with them, only to turn against them in the end.

It was before the changes took place that even I was beginning to feel the pressure to no longer bring people in or even place them in jail. I was told to take them out or kill them and dispose of them quietly.

This caused me to rethink all that I knew or had learned. It brought me to the realization of what was real, or I had thought was real and what was all a farce.

I sat down, looked around at the place I was at, thinking of how I would decide what to do next. I then placed my hand on my gun, unholstered it and prepared to do the unthinkable. I was planning revenge.

Forgiveness was not an option or was no longer an option, It was either revenge or as close to revenge as I could come to carrying out, whether I liked it or not.

I knew this would be a suicide mission and I was now prepared to make this the result of all the many things that had made us what we had become. No matter what happened, it was an end-of-life option that had to be planned in many ways and put into action in one moment that would change things accordingly.