Breaking – Introduction

It started out as something that most people couldn’t see which is awful because it was in plain view, making a whole lot of noise and even had flashing lights on it. It was screaming for everyone’s attention and really only got a few people to notice it. Naturally, when those people went to go tell other people what they had found, those noble little whistle blowing souls were seen as either disruptions to the order of things and enemies to system, or mad beyond what our little human minds could even try to comprehend.

He saw it coming years ago but never really understood what he saw. His mind was busy.

I suppose you could say that all of this was the result of a sort of reincarnated romantic ideal. That’s not really important right now, just keep that in mind.

I suppose we can start in the middle and then work our way back and forth through both directions in time. But first, a few seemingly random facts about people involved in this will be spat in your direction. At first, these will mean nothing to you. Upon your second glance, they will still mean essentially nothing to you. Then you may forget about them and they may or may not jump back into play. Regardless here they are.

This is for the most part, a story about a person named Mitch. He was born about a decade before the 21st century. He had a family that loved him and was good in school.

In 1835, The United States of America paid off its national debt. Andrew Jackson was president. We haven’t come anywhere close since.

When Mitch was 18 years old he met a girl named Marianne. Their love was incredibly brief although he still thinks about her. He always wondered if she thought about him but always figured she probably didn’t. She broke the hard truth to him and said goodbye for the last time about two and a half years after they met. The truth was this, whatever they had was most certainly real, but it died a long time before. His last attempt at her heart was quite sad to watch, I’m sure. It was outside a bar on Easter morning. She turned and took a cab home and he wandered the streets until sunrise which was only a few minutes away.

Buddy Holly died in a plane crash on February 3rd, 1959. He was reincarnated into a young man in upstate New York who gets into a bit of trouble here in there. If he violates probation again though, he’ll have to go to jail.

When he was 20, Mitch went to a punk rock show in his town. Reincarnated Buddy Holly was there. The band wasn’t really his cup of tea but he was glad to be out of the house. He saw the words ‘Fuck a Poet’ written on the fence of the smoking area out back behind the theater and thought them very profound. It could have been a band name or a song name or part of a song. Could have been nothing, but he was sure it wasn’t.

The definition of the word terrorism is something along the lines of: the use of violence and threats to intimidate or coerce, especially for political purposes or a terroristic method of governing or of resisting a government.

Liberty is defined as freedom from arbitrary or despotic control.

Mitch was from mostly Irish decent which would explain his disdain for empires. He gets this from Robert Emmet, who was a not too distant ancestor of his, though he would never know that. Emmet started a rebellion in Dublin against Britain, but empires are tough to take on. This was in 1803. The rebellion just turned into a riot confined to the Thomas street area where he was hung for treason about two months later. He died still being in love with Sarah Curran whom he was not allowed to marry. No history or science can really prove the relation to Mitch at this point, but it’s there through some nameless bastard who eventually came to America.

On July 22nd, 2011, Anders Behring Breivik killed 77 people in Norway because he thought it was the right thing to do. His crusade had mostly teenagers as victims.

Mitch never really acted out. He was never arrested or suspended from school. He had to go to the school psychologist when he was ten but that was about it. Some girl on his bus told his teacher that he was talking about suicide with another boy. They were. They planned to jump off a bridge when they were in their 20’s. They had no idea what that really meant. Mitch still doesn’t.

Smoking marijuana has never directly led to the death of anyone, ever. Crime associated with the plant doesn’t count. It’s bullets that usually leads to those deaths and that is usually the result of money. And by usually, I mean always.

Mitch got caught smoking pot on his father’s birthday when he was 17. His father was turning 48. He got caught many times after that but never really thought much about it.

He lost his virginity when he was 18. This was not with Marianne. The girl who it was with was a very mean person but Mitch was convinced she wasn’t. All boys smarten up eventually. Mitch always thought he was too late.

In 1796, this new country called America signed a treaty with Tripoli that started with something like this: “As the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion,—as it has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion, or tranquility, of Mussulmen.” Mussulmen means Muslim. The treaty had something to do with pirates.

At 21, he landed a job writing for a broadcast news program. He wrote stories that he thought were important and what the network told him to write. They would only ever air the things he was told to write about. Mitch always thought these stories were just stupid fillers to keep people occupied with the feeling that they knew what was going on. The stories they didn’t pick were always closer to the truth. People would just rather see a hedgehog that got stuck in a can of beans than how their government just made it perfectly legal to spy on citizens for whatever ridiculous reason they could possibly dream up. It’s the mass media and their famous sleight of hand.

Douglas McCrea was the main anchor for the news program that Mitch worked on for 17 years before he was hired. If you asked Mr. McCrea, he would have told his career died along with his soul sometime around 2004. He had been an alcoholic since the late 80’s but his passion kept everyone from knowing until decades later. Mitch idolized McCrea. McCrea, in return, mentored Mitch for the first six months of the job but he knew his hero was crumbling.

“If you want to change the world,” McCrea told Mitch once. “You’re sure as shit not going to do it working here.”

Mitch hadn’t even known he was here. He was at his desk working on one of those stories that the network was going to throw out. McCrea had read the story over his shoulder and thought it was brilliant, though he never said so. When Mitch turned around, McCrea had moved to the window and was staring at the busy streets below. It was 30 minutes until he went on air. No one knew anything but him.

“Out there,” McCrea mumbled over the whiskey.

“What’s out there?” Mitch asked.

“All the work that I’m trusting you to do,” He replied with a smile. He walked to up to Mitch and placed his hand on his shoulder. He smelt like a bar mat. Then he walked away and said nothing more.

He shot himself in the mouth on the set that night after going on what all the headlines referred to as the rant of an old, mad drunk. The control room was able to shut off the broadcast when he pulled out the gun, just before his brains decorated the wall behind him. Douglas McCrea was not killed in the name of god or for the good of the country, so they’re not allowed to show it on television. The funny thing was, he was probably the only to die in a long time and not have his cause be in vain.

Whether any of these will be relevant to this story is yet to be seen.

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