Inachevé

Thirteen - Hallelujah

"There's a war going on. It's big. It's silent. It's not in faraway lands. It's not even in the White House. It's in you and it's in me. My name is C. J. DeCart. The government knows me as H-19671. This isn't the future. This is only 2013."

===

Hands laid flat on the table. Cold chains were wrapped brutally around his wrists. Feet were spread apart and cuffed to the legs of the table. The only sounds heard were the ceiling fan whirling above and the strained breathing of the victim.

A man in a starched white button down and business jacket picked up a warm sheet of paper. Through his beady eyes, he read aloud in a theatrical voice,

"Christian Jace DeCart. You are charged for the following: Discrimination, hate crimes, gun control, pro-life, sexism, radical reasoning against the government, freedom of speech at inappropriate times, brainwashing children under the age of understanding, and most of all, belief in an authority higher than the P.L.F. We are disappointed that you found no trust in a country that has given you everything. You are no longer an American, and we have the right to terminate you. Do you have any objections?"

The victim looked through a strand of bloodied hair and stared at the man in the suit. He didn't say a word or exchange a disrespectful squint of the eyes. He just remained calm and attentive. He wasn't submitting to the man, nor was he being stubborn, he just found that silence was the best way to keep himself alive. The man in the suit passed a hand over his bald head and walked around the table. Leaning over so that his mouth was beside DeCart's ear, he whispered with a bitter taste on his tongue, "Who do you think you are? A saint? A martyr? What did you hope to accomplish?"

DeCart's chest rose and then fell in a shudder. He finally found a break in time to talk. "I have done nothing against the government, or the people. I spoke what I believed when asked, and stated what I believed when I found it appropriate."

The man in the suit scoffed and shook his head slowly. "Don't you have any shame inside of you? You are on the top of our list to destroy. And you're going to sit in silence, believing in a world that's safer without government protection?"

"The policies of the government have taken away my freedom as an American citizen. The government now has our health, our businesses, our armory, and has access to all of our security. My children were taken away from me on Christmas Eve because my wife and I wanted to educate them at home. My wife, a month later, was killed in an armed robbery." DeCart turned his eyes to the man and stared at him in a boiling hate. "And if you don't care, then that's another reason why I don't trust you or anyone you work with."

"The government believes in a standard education where every child learns the same," the man said in a warm smile. 

"'He alone, who owns the youth, gains the future.' You know who said that?" DeCart said in an even toned voice. "Adolf Hitler. The world's most demonic dictator. He believed if he controlled the developing minds of those under thirty, he had control of the next generation. And he did." DeCart followed the man back to his seat and continued, "I believe your government's tactic is just like his."

"You don't know anything, H-19671. Your assumptions are what has landed you on the death row. We have given you the freedom to do whatever you want. And you refused it."

"No, I just didn't believe what the world has come down to believe. If I don't think like you do; believe what you believe; say what you say, then I'm a threat. Where's my freedom? Or does peace lie in being a sheep?"

The man stood up violently from his chair, knocking it over. He pointed a shaking finger at DeCart and declared furiously, "You are foolish! You're a disgrace! We respect people, all people. But when we have people like you parading your opinions around and having the gull to speak out against other citizen's choices, you are an annoyance to the government and the citizens."

DeCart winced against the raw pain in his wrists and the soreness in his calves. He moistened his dried lips and blinked his eyes to keep himself awake. "As I had said in the beginning, I only stated what I believed when asked or when I found that my opinion fits the situation. I have the right to say what I want.  If people can't handle it, then why am I expected to be tolerant?"

The man leaned forward and seared DeCart with his eyes. "I know what kind of person you are. You're a selfish, low-life who stirs up trouble. You hate people and you hate being told what to do."

"Disagreeing with people is different than hating them,” DeCart corrected.

"You’re so twisted.  So radical," the man snarled.

DeCart wanted to respond, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good, especially if his opponent’s mind was set.  As he sat on the cold, hard chair, he began wondering if all that he had said, all that he had done prior to his seating, was worth it. Would have being silent and obedient saved his life? Would he still have had his wife and children if he hadn't been a renegade? Was he crazy for living by faith? DeCart fell in silence as he watched the man in the black business suit motion forward two other men.

The two other men, suited in bulletproof vests and armed with assault weapons, released DeCart and walked him to the exit. They opened the concrete door and shoved him out to the back alley where empty storage crates and moving trucks were stationed.

"On your knees," one guard replied through his tight fitting helmet.

DeCart's jaw clenched and he slowed descended. His knees met the ground with a thud and his hands were quickly bound in front of him. A streak of confusion passed over his face and he looked up at the guard who was loading his pistol. DeCart looked down at the ground and laughed at himself for believing that they would hold a trial for him.

The guard directed the handgun right at DeCart's forehead. His finger pressed the trigger lightly. DeCart dropped his head closed his eyes and a shiver shook his body for a moment.  When he opened, his eyes searched for a mark to stare at and it wasn't long before he saw an inked inscription on the inside of his right wrist. In dark teal lettering, it read "To die is to gain." A small smile slipped across his face and a flood of complete joy rushed over him. He was going home.