You awake to the sound of
your alarm, it is loud and overbearing, you get up and get ready to go to
school. On your way home you see the flag waving and flowing with the
wind with great fervor, you come home with the news playing on the television
as your father watches with great distaste and as your mother tells you to wash
your hands before you eat dinner. As the three of you gather around the table
your father recalls how your mother could not keep her hands off him when they
were young, she kept groping my butt and kept kissing my lips. Do not listen to
your father your mother says as your father continues to recall how he used to
spank her but and how she enjoyed it. It is true! Your father exclaims, whilst
your mother vehemently denies his claims, the news then switches to a report on
an attack on government forces by rebels. Your mother speaks out by defending
the rebels. Your father replies. If it had not been for your activist groups
back in the day our country might still be in our hands, I had fought the
invaders with great ferocity while your groups destabilized the only
institution that had any fighting chance, he continues, the rancid smell of the
dead and dying men around me enters my mouth, the odor was so foul that you are
able to taste death and decay. Your mother remains silent, your father stands
and brings a box over to your side of the table. Open it he says. You open it
to see a gun and dozens of bullets casings, you grab the gun and as you feel
the cold metal against the palm of your hand, he lightly grabs your arm, you
feel his course and rugged hands, and finally he speaks. For Each casing you
see is one invader I killed with this gun, I fought so you would not have to,
but we lost. Your future and the future of our nation is now in your hands.