#ThursThreads Week 348 : I need you to stay quiet and out of sight.

Raymond Scott, the father of Jackie Scott, who used to be Jack Scott, peeked between the curtains out the front window of his home, at the rabid gang on his front yard. “We know it’s in there! Bring it out, and there won’t be any trouble!”

Raymond turned to his wife, Brenda, and their daughter Jackie. “I need you to stay quiet and out of sight. Go hide somewhere.”

Have I ever mentioned how stupid people are? Let me mention that now. See, after I fixed the problem that happened with Michelle, and shot who knew how many people, to correct a violent, ignored act against a human being, these little incidents started to pop out of the woodwork. That old saying, “violence begets violence.” Suddenly, the world was filled with idiots trying to murder anyone they didn’t approve of.

Raymond, I knew, was about to step onto his front porch, and confront the idiots. Unarmed Raymond. Like a big dummy.

It was time to protect Raymond and his family from the idiots. I blocked the door to his house, so he couldn’t open it. Then, I marched into the crowd. An invisible demon from hell that broke bones, bruised bodies, and shattered teeth. One who spoke with a computer generated voice that warned, “Don’t make me come back. Your families won’t like burying you if you make me come back.”

I wondered how many of those idiots I’d have to kill before they figured it out.

248 Words
@mysoulstears


One story leads to another, it would seem Now, the aftermath of trying to fix one problem leads Armor 17 into a war of attrition. It’s Week 348 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.

#ThursThreads Week 245 : That Makes Two Of Us

I was starting a war, putting other transgender people, and those who supported them, at risk. So I took the time to learn who the transgender people in the area were, and who supported them.

A soccer mom, with two adopted daughters. She’d opened a diner, and was doing well. Especially at lunch time. People had to eat. She worked hard to give her daughters everything they wanted, and to teach them how to live, how to care for the people around them.

A retired couple, spending their last years together in the happiness they always wanted. The apartment complex owner who rented a flat to them, and always checked to see if they needed anything.

A mechanic at the best car dealership in the area. The dealership’s owner who defended him from the guys who didn’t want to work with him, “He’s the best mechanic I’ve ever seen.”

Samantha, a 13 year old who wondered if anyone could ever love her for who she was. Her parents who wondered when she would come home from school in tears again. Julie, the neighbor’s daughter, who walked Samantha to and from the bus every day, and sat with her at lunch.

Julie knew how Michelle had been murdered, and put on display, and what had happened to Michelle’s neighbor. Julie who said, “I’ve got a bad feelings about all this,” one night, before bed.

I nodded, and thought, “That makes two of us, kid. That makes two of us.”

247 Words
Mark Ethridge (I’m not on twitter, you know)


This is part 4 of the Armor 17 story I started in Week 239 of #ThursThreads. It’s Week 245 of #ThursThreads, hosted by Siobhan Muir. Please go read all the entries in this week’s #ThursThreads. They are always fun to read.