As I stand there in the crowd, I watch as injustice rolls by in what can only be described as death machines. I have stood idly by as this government, who I have pledged myself to, ignore their citizens continually. Now they threaten these pedestrians by flexing their muscles as these tanks come one right after the other in what seems like a never ending line of them. I tell myself I must do something. Before I know it I find myself cutting through the crowd of people watching this display of clear abuse of power. I weave in and out of people I stop just short of the street. I ask myself if I am ready to put myself at risk for whatever comes my way for these actions I am about to commit. I take a deep breath. I throw away any second thoughts in my mind. I close my eyes and let my mind go blank. I feel myself clench my fists around these bags I am carrying. I let myself feel the adrenaline pumping inside of me and then I walk.

I walk onto the street towards the tanks. I stop and wait for the looming death machines to come upon me. I refuse to let myself wonder if they will roll right over me. I hope they know I am unarmed. I thrust my right arm into the air with the bag in my hand to signal my presence. We both stand their staring at each other. The man inside the machine and me stand there in confrontation. Finally, he makes the first move. He moves to the left and so do I. I follow as he moves further and further left. Then he moves right and so do I. He moves left again and I follow again. Here we are caught in an awkward dance of life and death. Ultimately the man inside the tank halts to a stop. Here we are facing each other once more. As I stand there still, I think I must go even farther.

I go with instinct and begin to feel myself walk towards the tank. In horror and amazement I feel myself climb on top of this machine. I do not even know what I will do when I get to the top. For some reason I begin to look for a door. When I find this door I will knock on it and hopefully the man inside will come out. I hope I can convince what a mistake this all is. I finally find the door. I try with all my might to pry it open. The soul of the machine finally decides to show his face. We lock eyes for only a second. I begin to open my mouth in order to voice my opposition, but before I can he turns his back to me. He refuses to acknowledge me. I find myself climbing down. Soon I am dragged away from the scene by a group of people. What now I ask myself? The lamp post to the right of me knows just as much as I do I think. I suppose this lamp post is laughing at my misfortune.