Accountability

The forum sat silent, waiting on baited breath for the results to be announced. Then over the loudspeaker the voice claimed 78 Yea, 22 Nay. In that moment deep throated cheers erupted. There were celebratory pats on the shoulders and backs of the colleagues. Hand over handshakes became normal. The countless hours of personal deals, negotiations, threats, blackmail and promises was about to financially pay off for the statesmen. They have approved another war under the pretense of peace. The utter word of peace could give them the power to achieve whatever they desired.

Jack sat on the side of his bed. His nightly call expressed his love to his wife and told her that there would be another war. He promised he would be home soon and not to worry. Solemnly, he ended the call and placed his cell phone on the charger. A slight smile crossed his face, because he knew his career was about to accelerate. He swung his legs into bed, and performed a quick visual sweep around his tiny studio apartment. Jack was so exhausted he fell asleep with the night light on. It was from a deep sleep Jack awoken to a figure staring at him. Startled, Jack sat up and looked back. He was staring at a man who looked exactly like himself, except for his dirt smeared face, bloodied and bruised, and in adorned in military fatigues. The soldier figure stated “It is time to go.” Jack exclaimed “Who the hell are you? I’m not going anywhere.” Jack then began to hear a faint banging, which he assumed was coming from outside. He jumped out of bed to get to the window and intensely looked down both sides of the street as far as his eyes could see. The cold, dark neighborhood was lifeless. Jack repeated “Who are you? What do you want?” Then he chuckled and said “OK guys, you got me. This is a really funny joke, hilarious!” The figure continued to stand motionless, facing the bed. Jack walked back over, impressed with the uncanny appearance of the soldier figure. The soldier figure slightly turned his face, staring into Jack’s eyes. “Jack you are me, and I am you. You decided to divide us into two. Power is meant to do good, not self serving. It’s been too many times, Jack.” The figure stated. Jack stared at him perplexed as the banging was getting louder. “Christ! What is that banging?” Jack asked with anxiety. The soldier figure answered with a void of emotion. “Those are all of the soldiers who are preparing this evening to go to war.” “Mister, you’re nuts! Get out now!” Jack yelled. Finally the loud banging became clearer. It was the sound of heavy booted foot steps, in unison of many people. The stomping stopped and the soldier figure reminded Jack, “It is time to go.” Jack became petrified and grabbed his coat and keys. The solder figure yelled “GO!” Jack opened the door to find himself facing the battlefield peppered with dead soldiers. In an instant he was sucked into the hands of the fallen officers. Screaming in anguish, the ego was taken. The conscience hung his head low, with tears of blood flowing down his face, in utmost defeat, and then dissipated into thin air.

“Alex, I told you there is no Facebook while breakfast.” Al Sr. instructed his son as he sat with his cup of coffee in hand. “Dad, wait.” Alex insisted. “Your news app says that Jack Backus, Tanner Smith and Ryan Tucker have been missing for three days. Aren’t they your friends?” “I guess you can say that.” His father answered. Both father and son hovered over the tablet and read out loud simultaneously “Three statesmen have gone missing. There are no clues in this mind boggling disappearance, except for a tiny piece of material, soaked in blood, found on the floor of their studios. Officials believe the material is possibly a frayed piece of a military fatigues. Officials are bewildered and continuing….”