When they came for me — a short story
I was ready. I’d been playing out this very scene in my head for around 5 months now — obsessively, that it would come someday. The strange thing is that with hindsight it was just paranoia, not some sort of hypothesis.
My friends thought I was a little crazy. They were convinced I would be safe in this here. They were convinced of assurances made about my safety; nevertheless, I was right and they were wrong.
I was prepared.
In the army they drill you to death until you’re prepared for battle, but I was always skeptical about this kind of thing because nothing can prepare you for the real thing. The event overwhelms everything that you learnt, so you stand there frozen — subjected to by external events.
My body moved on autopilot — I was just acting without thinking — I felt calm. Completely accepting the inevitable course of events that were about to unfold before me.
I always knew what they’d do when they found me.
I crept towards the window to see what they looked like. There were a convoy of vehicles. I couldn’t make out faces because they were covered by balaclavas. A few of them had gotten out and were consulting a map as they pointed towards my door. One of them emerged with what appeared to be a machete and began gesticulating with it whilst in frantic conversation.
You know, in life, and in any moment, there’s always a choice about what to do next.
The choice of how you react to circumstances beyond your control. Paradoxically, when you see these choices, you’re in control.
That disconnect between knowing what is true and truly believing it only happens through ‘action’.
For years I practiced applying this belief.
And it leads me to where I am today, right now, at this moment. I’m about to make ‘my choice’.
I stand at the top of the stair case waiting for them.