I didn’t know that I was fighting the wrong enemy until the day I died. As I lay there with my lifeblood pouring from my wounds, my physical pain was dwarfed by my new found knowledge. How could I not have known? How could none of us have known? Let me back up a bit and tell you my story…

My name is Thomas. I was born into the war. Both of my parents fought valiantly for more than 15 years to protect our kind from annihilation. They often told me as a child, that we all would have been safe, if we had never been given the name Indigo. In the 1970’s, a woman decided to go public with the notion that there were many “special” children with indigo auras. From that point on we were sought out, ridiculed, and persecuted. Thirty some odd years later, world leaders decided that we were a threat to their power, and therefore a threat to “normal” humans. War was waged. First with arrests and reconditioning by electroshock and drugs. Then, after some Indigos rebelled, with murder. My Mother and Father both died to protect me when I was twelve.

I stayed with others like me and learned to fight. We never wanted anything other than to be left alone with our thoughts. Instead we were forced to use our talents and abilities to stay alive. We banded together in camps and moved often. Usually we could keep one step ahead of our pursuers, as there was almost always at least one person in each camp with a gift of precognition. However, sometimes we were surprised by the raids and had to fight, flee, or die in the middle of the night. This led to the belief that there were those with special gifts of there own fighting with the Normals.

By the time I was 18, I had been in several major battles. All but the last were a result of having to protect myself and my extended family. In the last siege, we were the aggressors. We had decided that the culling of Indigos would never end and the only alternative was to eliminate the threat. After a year of planning and coordinating, we launched a simultaneous global attack against normal cities. There was much death on both sides. I lost two fingers but gained a greater hatred for those not like me.

I am now 22 years old and can’t count the number of men, women, and children that have died by my hand. I also can’t count how many friends I have lost. Numbers don’t mean much to me anymore. The camp I belong to has grown large enough to take over a small town in rural Texas. We have no named leaders, but if we did, I would be one of them, simply because I have survived for so long. As our numbers grow we feel more secure of our future as the only human inhabitants of the Earth. We will win this war. The only question remaining is how many of us will be left.

When the first scream awoke me this morning, I wasn’t sure if it was real, or a sound from the near future. Then as I was jumping up to investigate the bomb exploded. I was knocked off of my feet and my ears were ringing. I instinctively knew that we had been targeted from the air. I grabbed my weapons and ran outside. There were so many of my allies already around me that we looked like a small army. Everyone spread out to there pre-assigned border areas quickly and quietly. There was very little communication needed between us. I and four others went together to the eastern boundary of our camp.

On the way, we past the area that had been damaged. The fires still burned and the bodies still writhed. I felt the anger swell in me and heighten my senses. Arnold stopped when he recognized his sister, still clutching his brand new nephew, charred and not moving. The rest of our group looked to him. He understood and kept moving. We were no more than 100 yards from the fence when the shots rang out from behind us. I spun around as I was hit and saw only two men. One had the automatic weapon that had nearly cut me in half. The other was simply staring at us. I realized he had been cloaking the shooter from our thoughts, and laughed that the theory of traitor Indigos was actually true.

It was then, as I lay there dieing and hating, that memories flooded into my mind. They were not my memories, but those of my species. It was a global consciousness that was aware of what had happened to us. I remembered small children and babies going into a bright light. I looked through their eyes and saw the most grotesque beings doing things that I couldn’t understand. There was pain as I/they were touched with different instruments. As I faded into cold blackness, I understood a conversation between the monsters. One said to another, “These special children will produce more of their kind until they threaten to replace the others of their species. There will be civil war until all are dead by their own hands. Then this planet will be ours….” Now I know, we have all been fighting the wrong enemy all along.

Ooooooh, good story. I didn't see that ending coming at all. I'd never even thought of Indigo traitors before and that was a nice angle.

Another excellent story my friend. If you're not already writing for money, you should consider it.

I hope you do well in the contest,

wupy

i kinda want the main character to send a message now to his people
but he must be confused who is who really
i feel his pain and it is like we know what is wrong and where and how
but who, who is it?
sorry, ranting, but this story makes me think about the whole current state of the world!
nice one, Cameoli!

This story hit the hammer right on the nail actually....


You were never to come here and fight against PEOPLE.... you were just to fight against the systems that prevent their freedom......

A lot now are transitioning to crystal because of this, and because the frequencie is too much for the younger ones, so the plan changed and some indigo's transitioned into crystal to bring back the balance of love...

You see...the people wouldn't feel like "hunting" you down if you weren't being so aggressive towards them in your thoiughts and words etc.....

In fact they would be "yeah, let's take down "the man" together" etc.... but instead of targeting SYSTEMS, I have seen a lot of attacking PEOPLE.....which is why they would rebel....

Putting NEW systems in place (permaculture, sustainable living, barter etc,etc,etc,) to replace to old, dying/dead systems as a group collective is what will work....

Taking those first steps to form as a community for an example, and then guiding others as well....

Instead there has been all talk, and barley any action in the right direction....

You can feel "persecuted" all you want, but these words will hopefully instead ring tru to you and get you bacl on course....

Learn to fight through NON-compliance... NOT through fighting.... don't get sucked in and start playing the game.....

You were supposed to start a new team that inspired others to join your team...not cause further seperation from the people.....

I have been a little of both (indigo AND crystal) and the indigo part left over helps me to say this to you...hopefully the crystal part maes it in a loving way...

It is not a big deal though, it takes ONE day, ONE thought to jump back onto the right course.......just trun the wheel of the car/boat, and you will avoid hitting a wall/cliff....

Right?

Love you guys...hope I made some sense .

Some very thoughtful responses from you all. I am very pleased to have written something that was thought provoking! My main idea does seem to have come across; That our current perceptions of whom we are in a struggle against, may not be correct at all.

Criticism always welcome. I reread the last paragraph, and couldn't agree more! I'd like to know exactly what they looked like, too!

Cool! Loved the ending! Good luck in the contest.
liw

The writing was done perfectly. Each paragraph brought a new revelation about the situation the character finds himself in right up until the end where we are confronted by a completely new threat.

A riveting read.