God’s New Blessed Soldier

I’m dying. I feel the memory leaking. I feel the power seeping. I feel the process weeping.

…What, what’s he doing. Why’s he got that thing aim at me. Done nothing wrong but try to get Bobby Joe way from the Army. He’s too young. He’s got to be teenager first. I know this now. Didn’t know it then. I was. …DAMN! ALMIGHT! I felt that one. The boy is toyin’ with me. He’s a good shot. Got those sites all lined up on me. I can hide here. It’s a foxhole. Maybe I should pray? Got no time for God. Gotta get going out of here. But where? Where is he now? Got that gun waiting for me to move? What was I thinking. My boy. My boy. That’s what I was thinking. I need him to be far away from this. If I kid nap him. If we get him out maybe we can go start some place new. Army got to understand. They got to. He’s my boy. He’s, he’s me. He’s barely learning walk, but got that aim. That is my boy. What’s that! He’s near. Bobby Joe is near. He’s wanting me killed. I know. I should go home. There’s Another. That shot was away. Maybe? Maybe he’s going away? Keeps calling out for John Doe. Who is John Doe?

No one is talking about Bobby Joe. He’s on some mission. A mission to kill something. I don’t have a good feeling about it. I feel bad. All I can do is sit here and think if my boy is alive. Hearing rumors that the team left on a mission to kill a big time A.I.. A machine. I heard, but that is all. I can just sit on the porch and rock on the chair. I can do much else. Too worried. Wife won’t even talk with me about it. She won’t talk to me about anything. She keeps telling me that if I keep trying to stop Bobby Joe from being in the Army then she’ll report me. She’ll turn me in. Now rocking in this chair is about the only thing I can do. Or she’ll call the Army and have them take me away. I don’t want the, but do I not want that more than I don’t want Bobby Joe to be on a killing mission? I’ll go find him. I just need to get away from the woman.

He’s got to go. He’s just too good at killing now. It’s in his blood. It’s his soul now. He’s stare looks like he’s going to kill you. He just looking and looking at you. Still and clam. Don’t even move or twitch. Can’t make him twitch. He won’t be moving unless his commanding officer commands him to move. I don’t like it. There’s no mommy or daddy. Only grunts and flashing hands signals. I tried to talk to the wife about getting our son out, but she’s still changed after the Army and Navy took her in for training. She don’t care much anymore. Like to watch him kill and capture. She might even be spying. I could be being watched. I don’t know. Starting to feel paranoid. Don’t know who to trust. Know I can’t trust my son. Can’t trust the friends. All the friends with Army or Navy. All get the same insurance and food support. I’ll give it all back. They can take my life. I don’t care. I want my boy back.

It’s amazing just watching him go at it like there’s nothing in his way but that kill. It’s fascinating for me to witness his good with the kill. And his legs are so strong. There is no stopping him completing the mission. There’s no way he ain’t going to get that kill. He will. And he does it with such grace. All those other babies can barely walk. My boy can run a straight sprint and swipe a switch blade across a neck before those other babies can stand. It’s amazing. It’s so wonderful.

But the wonder has got to end. It’s not right what they’ve done to my boy. If they have taught me one thing it’s that when the killing gets in the mind that it stays in the mind. It don’t leave. Never. And now my boy is got the kill in his mind. Ain’t never going to leave. That scares me.