Ethan Neal

Mrs. Woodruff

College English 1102

8 Feb. 2019

“his first steps were into battle”

The day of delivery:

Her screams of painful bliss rang throughout the room as the midwife belted out “Push!”

The proud father encouraged her once more “Push honey! Not just for me or the baby, you

know it’s for our freedom!” She clenched down on her husband's hand. There did not seem to

be any pain spewing from his face, but only a solitary, black tear that crept down his cheek and

followed its way to the floor and was never there, to begin with. Her nails dug into his hands, but

again no pain. The pain that grew within the fatherwas covered in a black tar of a painless and

emotional being that now spewed from him and enclothed him like a shield. Again the room’s

ears were hit with “Push!” for the final time and the mother let loose a scream so unusual, that it

almost sounded like the screech of an eagle. Then a hushed silence, but only the cry of a

newborn. The nurse quickly rushed the newborn over to the washing bay, but when she turned

around the baby had seemed to be washed away and she had a fully grown, 17-year-old in her

arms, naked, wearing only gold cloth over his eyes and a rosary that bore the words “ I am your

savior.” The nurse brought the boy to his mother where she hugged and kissed him goodbye.

Then to the father where he handed the child a gun. The nurse took him to the door and placed

the child on the ground where she placed golden dog tags around his neck inscribed with his

name, the day's date, and the word “Glory.” She opened the door to a war field in the desert. He
stumbled like a young foal to his feet and ran off, naked, still blinded and only protected by the

gun that was thrown over his shoulder. His first words: “TO GLORY AND FREEDOM!” And his

first steps were into battle.

The day of insemination:

“I thrust into her, filling her with my black elixir of manhood. My son was soon to be born.

I have no doubt. All glory be to God and country.”

The day of creation:

​ wim. … Race. … Win. … At last. … Growing. … ​heartbeat​ … I feel: … fingers

*​black* S

… hands. ​heartbeat​ … I move. I hear … sound: ​“GLORY! That was great sweety. I think this

​ I alive. … I am. … Am alive. … I am

time is the time we make another for our country!” …

alive. … Alive for glory for our country.

I grow. No, I grew. Inside the womb I prepare. Prepare for battle. I hear. I hear all my

heroes say. Father tells me all I need: Manhood. Glory. War. Mother tells of my future wife: like

she, submissive, makes soldiers, nothing more.

I have grown to such a sufficient age that it has afforded me the understandings of the

wrongdoings of my past - our past. The thought that a woman should be subservient to man is

utterly appalling. We all have been created equal in the eyes of God. No one is greater than any

other man, woman, or child on Earth; no one has been anointed such that he may judge the
acts of others as righteous, correct, moral, or on the contrary. Peace should be with those who

accept that as such, but instead mankind insists that the opinions placed before them shall be

judged with the weight of God that has been blessed to them by false pretenses which now

affords them the lawful hammer of morality, yet they too fault in the eyes of the Lord, but blinded

by misguided readings, they cannot see the daggers which they inflict upon themselves, but the

quick mind of the judgemental sees the handle pointing out from the flesh and says “I cannot

inflict such pain upon myself, so it must be by the hands of the unrighteous which pours out my

blood. It is them whom I shall put to trial.” even though it is by the hands of the self-proclaimed

that they pour out their blood. Listen, I tell you. Listen and see. Open your eyes and ears such

that you may know the paths that you have not followed, the stories of the weak and weary that

you have yet to hear, listen to why the caged bird sings and the wolf still cries to the moon,

know the stories of your brethren so that you may feel empathy. It is but the sweetest gift

empathy, but also the gift of having a mind open enough to feel empathy. I implore you to simply

open your mind so that your heart may receive and give empathy to your brethren.

I now know that my time is near; my life cut short of its full potential. I hear my father cry

though I am not near. ​A solitary black tear ran down his face and across the floor as though it

had a fierce mind of its own, willing it forth onto the mother's stomach where it seemed to

dissipate into her navel. I​ felt my father’s tear hit my face. My temples and forehead rang out like

a gong struck by the force of a thousand men.”Power and glory to God and Country” “All glory to

God and Country” blasted through my head as I was overcome by aggression, sex, lust, greed,

anger, strength, but most importantly every man alive. I have felt every single one of these men

all at once rush through my veins, as I too now bore a black tear.

…
 I am gone. I am now a real man. All glory to God and Country.

This is my hour of calling. My time has come to serve my God and Country for glory and

power; I am the saving soldier, for I know that I am the freedom of my people and I will lay down

my life to bring honor to my family and country. This is all I was created to do in this life -- fight

and die. It is my time to step through this sacred door where I know there is another waiting for

me. I take only that which I need: my God, my country, and that golden glory in my sight. It is my

time to show the unrighteous their maker and the ways of the true Lord for I am their savior.

The day of delivery:

“Push!” for the final time and the mother let loose a scream so unusual, that it almost

sounded like the screech of an eagle. Then a hushed silence, but only the cry of a newborn.

The nurse quickly rushed the newborn over to the washing bay, but when she turned around the

baby seemed to be washed away, and when she turned around, she had a fully grown 17-year-

old in her arms, naked, wearing only gold cloth over his eyes and a rosary whose cross bore the

words “ I am your savior.”

I stumbled as I walked onto the field where I knew my life had just begun carrying only a

gun. Off into the great unknown I dare charge forth into battle; knowing only the enemy and the

righteous, I charged forth to bring glory and honor to my family - to prove the what a true, real

man I am. “POWER AND GLORY,” I cried as a rushed the battlefield where all I saw was golden

glory.

My first and last steps were into battle.

 …

The day of mourning:

“As his parents, we could never be more proud of him. He brought honor and glory to our

family and we are so overjoyed with his life, but we know he wasn’t perfect as we all aren’t; we

all committed the greatest of sins before we are born: we think that we could change the minds

of others or be anything different than what God proclaimed us to be. Our time with him,

however short, was splendid and we knew and were proud that he has done everything that

God made him for as a man: to serve and kill, nothing more. We are so proud that his first and

last steps were into battle.”