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March 17th
Washington DC
9:47 AM The sun is an amazing thing to behold. I have
always been fascinated by the thought that half way across the world a man sees
the same light, the same sun as we do. I truly feel that just as God took it upon
himself to give mankind the gift of light, it is now time for us as Americans
to give the gift of democracy to mankind. Our black Lincoln
town car speeds down Pennsylvania Avenue
on route to the capital. It is a beautiful spring day. The sun is out and the
sky is clear, a good day for a picnic. I have made this trip hundreds of times
in the last three years, but today is different. I look out the Lincoln’s
window, a mother pushes a baby carriage, a young boy runs in the park, a father
plays catch with his son. I look out the window and I am proud that in a matter
of hours we will be spreading this gift of freedom to those who have never
experienced it. I look out the window and I know I am doing the right thing. We
are nearly to the Capitol. I know what I do today will not be easy, I know that
there will be those who oppose what I am going to do but I know in my heart
that it is the right thing to do. I am going to do this for the families of
those living under an oppressive dictator because it is what I would ask to be
done for my family. I am going to do this for the families whose lives have
been destroyed by those who hate the freedom we as Americans possess, because
it is what I would ask to be done for my family. I am going to do this because
I no longer wish to see any family living in fear. We have pulled into the Capitol.
“Thank you Mr. President,” says the reporter to my left. The rest soon chime
in. I shake their hands and get out of the car. My aides approach me smiling
from ear to ear. “Perfect,” a short balding aide says to me in a hushed tone,
“you had them eating out of your hand.” We walk through the marble halls
discussing today’s agenda. I have meetings all morning. At 10:30 I have a meeting with representatives from
numerous security firms, each of them looking for a piece of the profits the
upcoming war will create; each of them willing to support my upcoming re-election
campaign. At 1 o’clock I am meeting
with the leaders of the party to discuss the finer political points of going to
war. Then at 5:00 it’s show time.
First I am going to the Senate floor to finalize a bill that will provide
funding for the war. Immediately afterwards I am going on television to
announce the invasion and garner support for the war that will follow. At 7:00 I am going to go play golf.
5:30 PM The
red light begins to blink. The Senate was almost too easy to convince. The
chubby camera man counts down with his fingers. Five, I close my eyes visualizing
the course with its green rolling hills. Four, I see the perfect swing. Three, the
small white ball flies through the air. Two, it lands on the green rolling
slowly towards the hole, closer and closer almost there. One, “My fellow
Americans, there are words I prayed I would never be forced to speak.” It’s so
easy. “There are words I thought were reserved for the great presidents of
yesterday” It’s taking candy from a baby “There are words that should never be
taken lightly” I can see them all huddled around their television “There are
words that tonight must be said, and must be heard” They are sheep “My fellow
Americans tonight these words will be heard. They will be heard throughout this
great land. They will be heard all over the world in the homes of the world and
they will be heard by all those who have and will try to take our freedom” They
are mine. “Tonight the world will hear that we stand united. The world will
hear that we stand strong. The world will hear that we will strike down without
exception all those that think they can take our freedom, our families, our
lives, through terror.” And the finishing touch. “Tonight my fellow Americans
we are at war.” Time to golf.
March 17th
Arlington, Virginia.
9:47 AM. I don’t go outside anymore. The sun beating
down on me, its light is just another weight on my shoulder, just another
burden another factor in my life’s continuing failure. I don’t know what kind
of sick joke god was playing when he created this stinking cesspool we call a
planet. I don’t think its funny, did you hear me? IT’S NOT FUNNY. The car is moving
eastbound on I-66 towards DC. It is a clear spring day but why does that
matter? Why is a day like this held in such high regard? It is just another
step closer to mankind’s inevitable self destruction. It is a good day to be
dead. I put my head back and close my eyes. I can feel the torn leather
seatbacks against my neck. I look out the window; all I see is sprawling
suburbia. I look out the window and I am disgusted. This is it, America’s
final frontier, the final conquest; Suburbia was the beginning of the end. I
look out the window and I know what I did was not wrong. The car is slowing
down. I know there are those that will see me as a monster but I know in my
heart, a heart some will even say I do not possess, that I was setting her
free. I did it for her family, for our family. I did it so she could have what
I could not otherwise give her, it is what I would ask anyone to do for me. I
did it because I no longer wished to see her living under the yoke of an
oppressive reality; it is what I would ask anyone to do for me. I did it to set
her free from a world that did not care.
I did it because I do not wish to see any family living the way we did.
The car stops. “Thank you for your cooperation Mr. Peterson,” says the officer
in the driver’s seat. His young partner echoes the same words. They nod to me,
I nod back and the cruiser’s door opens. I am cuffed and escorted into the
station. They take me to a private room; It has two chairs and a metal table.
The room looks identical to the ones seen in those cookie cutter cop dramas. I
sit down and begin humming Beethoven’s 5th symphony; it is something
to keep me entertained while the wheels of justice run their course. The door
opens and in he comes. “They bought it, they think you are insane” he whispers,
a tinge of surprise in his voice. “Are you surprised?” I ask. I know the
answer, of course he is surprised. My first meeting with Jefferson
was in my penthouse, the second is here in this meeting room. “Well yes a bit”
his voice falters as he says it. For all his recommendations and ridiculously
high priced fees he didn’t do enough research to know I was an acclaimed actor
in college. “Never the less we have work to do” his voice falls back into its normal
confident tone. At 10:30 I have a meeting with a witness who has made it
clear his testimony is not set in stone. Money has a way with people. At 1:00 Jefferson and I will discuss exactly how
crazy I am. How I had lost grip with reality. How I could not tell what I was
doing was wrong. How killing her was the right thing to do in my mind. Then at 4:00 I go to work. First on the Judge, I need a
damaging psyche exam thrown out. Then on to the prosecution’s key witness, the
extremely talented but young private investigator. And finally on the fine men
and women of the jury in whose hands my fate rests. At 7:00 I will walk out the
doors a free man take a quick drive to a cooperating psychologist and then a
block away I will pick up my recently deceased wife’s life insurance plan.
5:30 PM The jury looks down at me, a mix of
hatred and sympathy in their eyes. I shoot a glance at Jefferson,
he seems pleased. I’m not sure if it’s the cut of the life insurance policy so
close he can taste it or the excellence of my testimony. The judge was a
pushover, and the private investigator was much too young to be playing with
the big boys. I look directly at each jury member, numbering them in my mind.
One, “Ladies and gentleman of the jury, what I did, I did for her”. Twelve
million dollars. Two, “She asked me to do it, maybe not with words, but the
look in her eyes begged for a release” All in one single life insurance policy.
Three “She was, like the rest of us are, just pawns in a game.” A policy that will
return to me the lifestyle my wife tried to take. Four, “A game being played
with our minds and our lives. This world does not care about us, about her.”
She thought she could take the money and leave. Five, “Can’t you see, I was
saving her” She thought I would let her go. Six, “I was releasing her from a
life that had done her so much wrong” She thought I would let the money go.
Seven. “This horrible world is no place for a beautiful creature such as her”
But that wretched bitch was wrong. Eight, “She deserved better than all of
this” Now she is gone and the money is almost mine Nine, “I did what was right”
I can see the check in my hand. Ten, “I did what she wanted” I can see the
yachts, I can see the wine, I can see the parties and the women. Eleven “I gave
her the gift of a new start” It is within my grasp. Twelve “I am her savior” It
is all mine. I can hear the quiet in the court room. I can see the shock on the
faces of the jury. I can see the tears in her mother’s eyes. I see it all and I
know I have won. An hour later I walk out the door of the courthouse a free yet
clinically insane man. I am untouchable.
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