Last week our house was broken into. It appeared to be two or three men. Not 100% sure. It was dark and It happened fast. But as they fired their weapons off in my house I was lucky enough to be able to fire off a few rounds as well, which quickly got them scared and running. They fired a few a more, hitting nothing but the walls thank God. The alarm system we have installed is top notch and between this and my shooting, this was enough to scare them away. Luckily no one was hurt. My wife and kids are okay. I’m somewhere between traumatized and pissed. Someone could have gotten hurt. Killed even. While it was happening I noticed the suspects looked indian. Not like samosas and curry indian, but like what they call “Native American”. I’m so sick of these politically correct liberals and their know it all “native americans”-speak. I call them indians as do most of my friends. So fuck it. Indians it is.
Less than a half hour’s drive away from our neighborhood, which for as long as I can remember has been called New Israel, there’s this little dumpy area called Snohomish. It’s almost all Indians there. They’ve been there for years. They used to be everywhere. Or so goes the argument. But our neighborhood has been here for as long as I can remember. Since I was a kid at least. And so has my family. We can trace our lineage here in America back three or four generations maybe. Needless to say, it’s a controversy. This area the indians live in has slowly grown into a self-sustaining community almost totally separate from our upscale suburban town. But it’s a dump. Crime and disease infest the place. Where we live on the other hand is clean, well lit and safe. We pay a ton of taxes, which by all accounts go mostly to these so called native americans to help them with their schools and other government social welfare programs.
This latest break in that happened, it isn’t the first. Other people have told me similar stories at the gym. That they too have had their homes robbed or attacked by these Indians. They’ve never been caught. But it’s definitely them. They hate us for our wealth and our freedom. It’s obvious. They think we owe them something because they once used to populate and dominate this land. But that was years ago. Progress is progress. We’ve earned this land free and clear. The government gave our family a small piece of this land almost sixty years ago and the rest we’ve bought on our own and built up through the years. The same goes for our neighbors. The only problem is that every now and then we encounter a problem with the indians who still think they have some right to it. So they pull stunts like these tonight. And we of course have every right to defend ourselves.
A few hours pass and I can’t sleep. I just can’t take it. I’m pissed. It’s getting near dawn now. My wife and kids have finally fallen asleep, everyone piled on our bed. Huddled together and frightened. But now safe and sound. But me I’m fuming. The nerve of these fuckers. I head out into the garage to pace and drink a glass of whiskey. I grab my shot gun, a few boxes of extra shells, a pistol and a few grenades. Before I know it, I get into my car and drive into Snohomish. Slowly. Quietly. As soon as I cross that invisible border, from street lights to no street lights, from churches and strip malls to bars bodegas and liquor stores, I open my car windows and start shooting. Their streets are quiet still. But not for long.
Wherever those guys are who broke into my house it’s not readily apparent. But I figure they have to be somewhere. This is where they come from. This is where they live. So I start firing my shotgun into houses. Just slowly driving down Snohomish Blvd… Bam! Bam! Bam! Pretty soon I start hearing screaming. I must have gotten a few. Because I could hear in the shrieks of terror coming from the houses not just fear but anguish. My blood starts to boil with excitement and I begin to feel this rush. Perhaps I got one of the guys who broke into my house earlier this evening. I hope so. No mercy I think. You fuck with me I fuck with you. I keep firing into random homes. More screams. Welcome to the terrordome mother fuckers!
A whole family comes ruining out of this one condo unit that I had fired into. They’re waving their hands and screaming bloody murder. I see blood. A lot of blood. Three women, a few little kids and a man. He’s holding something. Could be a gun. Or maybe a shovel. I can’t tell. But I don’t wait to see what he’s holding. I slow down, take aim and fire. Bam! Bam! Bam bam bam! All five of them fall to the ground like marionettes. Dead for sure. Or at least severely wounded. Dirty varmint. That’ll teach them! They don’t even belong here and everyone knows it. They should go back to where they came from! But the funny thing is… no one will have them! Not even their own kind wants them. So they end up here. Clogging up our towns and neighborhoods. On the outskirts of our town. Stinking up the place with their filth and shabby clothes and primitive customs. Disgusting.
To my right I see a group of dark skinned men about a hundred yards or so coming towards my car waving their hands in the air frantically. They’re in a panic. These are men. Some young. Some old. These could very well be the exact same men who broke into my house. Or if not they’ve probably broken into other people’s houses. So I accelerate a little towards them and roll down my passenger window. I take out my pistol, a semi automatic, and start shooting. Bam! Bam! Bam! One by one I bring the filthy beasts down. Blood splatters against their dark skin as they fall to the pavement. I keep driving. Through my rear view mirror I can see one or two of them moving a little on the ground. No worries. I can always get them on the way back when I swing around this way again i think.
Ahead to my left I see a large white builidng. It looks like some kind of a YMCA type place. Who knows with these fuckers, because I can’t read the strange hieroglyphic type of writing on the front of the building. But word on the street is that the same criminals who come into our neighborhoods at night to break into our homes hide out in these places. They live among the people. Cowards. I jerk my car over hard left and get real close to the building. There has to be at least a hundred or so people in there. It’s several stories high. A few lights come on. I see shadows flickering past the windows of the place, so bam I fire! Windows break. Screams. No more shadows. I reach over to the passenger seat and grab one of the grenades with my right hand, I pull the pin out with my teeth and chuck it right into the front of the building! BLAMMO! Bulls eye! A huge fucking explosion! Debris and glass flies everywhere. Smoke fills up the whole front exterior of the place. I can’t see anything. Just smoke. But I can hear them. Screaming and more screaming. Total pandemonium. But I don’t want to hear screaming. I want them dead.
So I stop my car for a moment and wait. In a few seconds out pour these bodies, one by one at first — BAM! BAM! — I fire at them and they drop, and then in droves, men women and children, all coughing and choking, fleeing the smoke and rubble like little ants escaping a large boot on an ant hill. They’re running every which way. Everywhere and nowhere. For there’s no place for them to go really. They know it and so do I. The whole world knows it frankly. We’ve pushed them to the very edge of land since when we first started developing this area decades ago. So I just stay parked there and fire at them. One by one they fall to the ground.
One or two of the women look pregnant. This makes me think of my own wife when she was pregnant with our sons. I pause for a moment. But my wife isn’t an indian I think. She’s not one of them. So fuck it. And what am I supposed to do? I’m not supposed to defend myself and my family? I fire more and more and still more. I keep firing until my clip runs out. But they keep coming. I grab the second grenade and pull out the pin. Wait…. Wait… I throw it into the center of them and BAM!!!! Blood and guts debris and body parts and hair fly up all over the place. It’s mass destruction. Smoke fills the whole area. It’s quiet for a minute. Just nothing except moans. And sobs. Crying. Weeping. It’s a slaughter. They stop running out of the building. I stare at the bloody mess and rubble for a few seconds and realize I’m out of ammo. A slow grin creeps upon my face as an intoxicating satisfaction leaks from my heart through my entire body.
The carnage before my eyes is ample. This is self defense at its finest. The definition of self defense. Before I have time to fully take it in and relish it I press the pedal of my car down and spin around and start driving home. Fast. God only knows what these fuckers are thinking now. I need to get out of here. For the time being they’re defeated. Discouraged and decimated. But I’m fully aware that in time there will be consequences for my actions. They’ll come back from the dead and try to seek their revenge. As they always do. But we’ll be ready for them as we were this time. Besides, the little guns they have when they do manage to get past our security gate and break into our homes are almost useless. They’re toys. No match against our iron dome-like mansions and palatial guarded estates in New Israel.
As I slowly drive through the security gate of our neighborhood it looks and feels like a different world. Street lamps are still on — their light now competing with that of the rising sun. Manicured lawns, three car garages, fancy cars fill every driveway, some morning sprinkler systems are already running. Just the thought of these Indians and the slums they live in disgusts me. Makes me happy to be home. And happier still that I was able to kill so many of them. Maybe they’ll think twice before they try to sneak into our neighborhood and break into our homes.
As I pull into my own garage I realize that there might be some flack or blowback for my actions, especially from people outside of our little town. From what we call the “well meaning ignorant left”. But anti-american is what I call them. People who don’t understand what it’s like to wake up in the middle of the night scared to death that someone has broken into your house. Sure they’ll raise a big fuss at first. But that will die down quickly. As soon as the next hurricane hits the coast or the next fire rages out of control in California. It’s a matter of time and really nothing else. For whatever reason most people don’t care about other people half as much as they care about money or celebrity. The police will come by and question me. But what are they going to do? We pay their fucking salaries. They know it and so do we. What? They’re going to write me a ticket? I find myself chuckling at the thought. It’s the first time I’ve laughed since the break in occurred. It feels good.
Nah, there’s nothing that anyone can do. This was self defense after all. I didn’t start it. All i did was finish it. Is it my fault that I have bigger guns than they do? How’s that my fault? And who can blame me for trying to protect my family? What else do people expect me to do? Plus I probably only killed a hundred of those dirty fuckers at best. No one ever gets in trouble for killing a hundred of them. A thousand, okay maybe. But not a hundred. They’re just not considered the same as us. No one is going to give a shit in a week or two. And for good reason. They’re not even from here. They’re not white. They’re not American. It’ll be okay. I’ll be fine. This thought calms my nerves as I turn on the water in our master shower to wash up. I start imagining what it will be like recounting the story to friends at the gym and coworkers. I’ll be considered a hero. The wife and kids are still asleep. There is peace in our home once more. I cannot wait to crawl into bed with my wife and fall asleep in her arms. I’m exhausted. Self defense is hard work. But well worth it indeed.