May 12, 2012 by Manny Wordsmith
You’re lucky I even capitalized your name. I despise you in every way possible. You’ve found a way to kill some of my favorite people and now your chasing down the families of my friends. You hide yourself in skin, muscles, lungs, prostate, colons, throats and breasts. But no matter how big of an army we send after you, you still kill. If your found early, then there is a wink of hope to take you down…but it’s hardly ever for good. It’s like only a hint of you is needed to poison a life until it is over.
I walk to get rid of you. I run to get rid of you. I buy bracelets and hats, give to foundations and wear pink fucking ribbons to get rid of you, thinking that maybe someday I’ll wake up to a world where you don’t exist. A world where parents aren’t forced to watch their beautiful children lose their hair and wither away before their eyes. A world where children aren’t forced to watch their mothers fight a losing battle against an unfair enemy. I would be happy to just be in a world where the month of May wasn’t a mess of flooding emotions and meticulous pretending. But you are heartless and refuse to bow out or lay down your bloodied sword. I’m not even sure if any of my efforts are doing anything to cripple your unrelenting attack on good people. Far as I know, the same places that pose as companies, built to defeat you, could be giving you aid when you need it the most. Human beings are also capable of sick and terrible things.
So you better hope I never win the lottery or strike it rich in this writing business, because if I do…I will hunt you down myself. I will be the Bruce Wayne/Batman of this community and use every, single resource I have to exterminate you in the worst possible way. I will rip every single tentacle you’ve latched onto this world. I will destroy every sign, growth, hint and whisper of you. I will end you faster than you can say “Seal Team 6”. This isn’t a threat, it’s a promise.
Consider this letter as a warning to you. Every person you take away from my friends and my family will result in a much more painful death. Every tear that I’ve used while writing this to you will be paid for in blood. You will not win.
Much hate and disdain,
Sgt. Emmanuel Lawrence Smith