Julie, Samantha’s neighbor, was hiding under the bed in her room when the white men with guns broke the front door to the house, and charged in. She heard them screaming, “We’re gonna kill everyone! We’ll put a stop to all this crazy shit that’s happened since that thing got what it deserved!” She heard them screaming about finding the little bitch girl who was friends with that thing down the road.
Julie tried not to cry. The armor told me she was stressed. I wondered how her parents were doing, if they were OK. I knew, all I had to do was wait.
I heard the angry men come storming up the stairs. I heard their guns going off all over the downstairs. I waited, until the door to Julie’s room slammed open, and two fat, balding, white men stood there, with AR-15’s pointed into the room. “She’s in here! Under the bed!”
One took a step forward. It was his last step. A 24 inch long knife blade ran through him, and stuck out his back. His buddy stood there in shock, but not long, before he joined the first one.
“Julie. I know you can hear me. I need you to take a deep breath. Close your eyes, and take a deep breath.” With that, I stepped into the hall.
Not one of the white men with guns walked out of Julie’s home.
It was time to protect others. And kill who I had to.
The next part of the ongoing Armor 17 story. It’s Week 308 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read. And there are some great writers who turn out weekly.