Alzheimer: Do Ghosts Cry? | home
Fear
They do not like me. They do not like my sisters. They really hate us. If they think that we are going to let them kill us just like this, wait, they have some big surprises coming. They called me Wade. I rather like my name
When I look at myself, I cannot say that I am unpleasant.
The House Owners were running around the house frantically, looking for something that would kill. They could not say why they had to kill, it could have been some instinct.
Wade was hungry. She and her sisters had not had any food for a long long time, it had been a bad season, they had been harassed so often, they had had to move so often that they had little time to stay anywhere, get familiar with the people, get accepted.
Even if Wade had never heard any tribal story about being accepted. It had always been stories about being killed, about whole families being destroyed, about villages being destroyed, burned, the water poisoned.
Wade could not understand why they would do this to her, her family, her villages, her country.
We are so small, we do not have big muscles, we do not have devious schemes that would make us the Masters of the World. They only thing we want is to be let in peace, to be able to get the food that nobody cares about anyway, to build our homes where nobody goes, nobody cares.
We are graceful. We only carry a small stiletto as weapon, and as a weapon it is rather dubious, it has been attached to our arm, if we use the stiletto to protect ourselves, we loose our life.
The people were running around in the house, as if Wade and her family were going to destroy their world. They were running after them with clubs and poisonous weapons that killed the family children with horrible sufferings.
Wade could not understand that hatred they had for them; if they just let them go peacefully about their business, there was so much space for peace for all of them.
They were getting more and more panicked in the House, somebody rushed to the phone, they called 911.
The big red truck arrived; many black clothed men arrived, they donned some kind of big inflated clothing they took out fierce stinking bottle with long lances, the house was evacuated, the doors locked, the windows locked, the horrible poison invaded the house, Wade and her sisters were running everywhere, hiding in all the corners, but the poison would get into their lungs, the muscle would arch into agony, the fun of it is that as their life was leaving them, what remained was the music of their life, of their hope.
The black men packed their gears, they had a cup of coffee, they wrote a bill for the intervention.
Why do they hate us so much?