Introduction

I am an American and I am proud of this. I am also hiding from the very people to whom we entrusted the future of this country. This is my last effort to get the truth out, to educate the masses and ignite a flame and fuel it hot enough to take the risks needed to prevent the now seemingly inevitable events from happening. It’s not too late people…it doesn’t have to end this way!
I know you want reasons, explanation, or even some sort of outline as to how or why I’m here. You want proof and validation before taking action. Under my current circumstances, I’ll try my best to condense what I know, for the time it takes you to read my story is time taken away from you to act.
We, and I mean this country, are in the middle of a deliberately manufactured war. Our enemy isn’t Russia, China or even the Middle Easterners. Our enemy is our own government, but most people have fallen victim to the massive manipulations of the media, fooled into believing our true enemy is our neighbors. This is a race war. This is the beginning of the end for so many and the TRUE purpose of this war is as nauseating as the methods used to start it.
I’m hiding in the basement of what was once a hospital, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a snub nose .38 I stole off a dead black man just three blocks away. There are only 4 rounds left in the gun, and before my story is told, I will need to find more ammo as well as another place to hide. This part of the basement I hide in is obviously the morgue. Doors upon doors layered against the wall, packed with bodies, some of them two in each, that have been forgotten. Quickly vanishing scars of this unprecedented battle. Finding a home for all our dead has become a challenge in itself, as much so as the challenge of survival. No one wants the fate these poor souls had. But if we are to die, would it not be worth it if our deaths meant something, if our demise was the fuel to continue this righteous fight? To die a martyr is no greater than dying a sinner. Death is death, no matter what the circumstances. It’s the legacy we leave behind that makes the difference. This is my legacy and my story….lest anyone forget why I was alive, why I made the choices I did. This late into November, with the first snow threatening what’s left of my comfort, I will make this story as simple and quick as possible, as I know I’ll be dead by December.