Do we really know who we are? I ask myself that question a lot these days. Maybe it's the passage of time and the realization that time is more fleeting than when I was a child. We all would like to think of ourselves as decent people who would always do what is right, but nothing could be further from the truth.

Yes, I know, not a positive way to begin this is it? This is the first time in going on twenty years now that I have committed the events of October 12^, 2013 on paper. Well, that's not entirely true. I have tried, only to find the words difficult to find. Words can sometimes be the most elusive of prey. I'll try though to relay the events as they truly happened of that terrible day and that terrible time, the time when I stopped being a boy and started being a man. The time that I saw all at once the evil that men are capable of as well as the courage.

It all started with the Enemy. But you already know all about that either through the newspapers or the television or the billions of other handy sources. You all know how close we came to annihilation. Maybe we all know, but the passage of time makes us forget the details and focus solely on the rhetoric, the images, the prefabricated garbage they drag out every anniversary and feed us again. We're so badgered with things like this that it stops being real and nobody seems to be able to remember what exactly happened, or why, only that something happened and we all behaved well. So, keeping the passage of time in mind, let me start from the beginning and try to tell this as it should be.

It really started on October 10, at least that's when the official statement was made. I was all of 13 years old at the time and full of the hope and promise that only a child can have. I was only vaguely aware that I was bordering a great and terrible change myself. I was going to have to cast aside the toys of childhood for the burden of manhood. Those were things I really didn't care about. I cared about what just about any other 13-year-old in America cared about. I cared about my bicycle, I cared about the ace of spades I always kept carefully in the spokes. I cared about who would win the World Series and whether or not I could get Brian Patrick to trade me his Harod Solzie rookie card for my Mark McGuire. I was no different from any other kid in Brooks Falls except for one thing, one very big thing. I'll get to that a little later.

First, It's important that you know a little bit about Brooks Falls. Now don't skip over this. It's not a boring history of the town itself, but a little about what makes town's important, the people. Now Brooks Falls was a small community just south of Birmingham, Alabama. We were a very mixed little town, being close enough to the city we got a regular influx of business people, yuppies, trying to get away from the noise of the city and carrying all that noise with them. It was our new residential base that petitioned for the opening of a Super Wal-Mart and got it. Lee Tredwell, the President of the Brooks Falls chamber of commerce and our illustrious mayor signed off on the deal with minimal effort. Of course, it was no big secret why. He owned the land they wanted it built on.

Well, that was the birth of the Brook's Fall's Citizen Coalition. Now I wouldn't get into all of this if it wasn't important, so bear with me. The Citizen's Coalition has a big part to play in this. Everyone who owned a business or did business in Brook's Falls was a member. Arly Pasteur, who owned the barber shop was a proud member. Just like any other small town, the barber shop was the center of activity, mostly gossip over games of checkers or dominos. Arly always had a table set up right outside his shop and right outside his shop is where he sat until a customer came by. There wasn't a single person in Brook's falls that could remember Arly not being there, except for that week that he went in for surgery. Just the same, Mitch Daniels, Arly's only employee set up the table and it was business as usual, despite the fact that Mitch was deaf in his left ear and his brain was just about gone after a car accident some ten years earlier. Skull fracture. There were times that he'd just stare off into space like he was seeing his lost future play out before him. He could always be seen sweeping outside the shop, still wearing his high school letterman jacket.

There were other members, of course. There was Polly and Frank Pettus. They owned "Polly's Pocket," a small consignment store right next to the barber shop. They mostly sold odd things to place outside made from garbage that Frank collected. Frank was a notorious packrat and Polly was more than a little money hungry, so it fit just fine. Frank would gather pieces of scrap metal and make fountains or mailboxes. Things like that. Really folksy stuff that the yuppies just ate up. If Frank hadn't been in such a hurry with Polly and gotten her pregnant before they got married, he might have been an artist.

Then there was Carole and Lee Marshak, they owned "The Miner's Delight," which was the local restaurant of choice for everything from a nice Sunday dinner to that awkward first date. The place was always packed during the Prom with nervous teens in tuxedos' and gowns hoping that nobody could see that fresh pimple growing from their forehead. Carole was the sweetest woman you could ever meet and kind to a fault. Every Thanksgiving she would spend the better part of a day at the restaurant, cooking up a full course Thanksgiving feast for those without the benefit of a family. If she had her way, she'd give it to them free of charge, but lee would hear nothing of it. Still, in all, she found ways to get the prices lowered just north of nothing.

Lee Marshak was her polar opposite. He was a shrewd businessman with little concern for anything save his bottom line. He always voted Republican and never missed a Sunday service. He was a decent enough man in that he never abused Carole or spoke an unkind word to her, but he was also distant and couldn't connect with people on a real level.

Reverend Parrish was also a member. I can still recall the few times going to the Brook's Hills Baptist Church and seeing that leathery old man staring down from the pulpit preaching fire and brimstone so well you could feel it shooting from his eyes. He was married as well, though his wife, known only as "Mrs. Parrish," seldom said a word and was only seen at civic functions or during the sermons. She was a mousy thing, sadly beautiful like a robin in a cage.

Then there was Josiah Cole. He was a member when it was convenient. He owned an Army Surplus shop and also ran some kind of survivalist training camp out in the woods near Bear Creek. People tended to avoid Josiah and not without reason. He never married that anyone ever heard about and was obsessed with security to the point of near absurdity. Josiah only ever attended meetings whenever someone's tree was growing over into his property or whenever some perceived slight against him had taken place. He would rant and rave and threaten to sue, but eventually would calm down so long as he got his way. Nobody ever really tested how far he would go if he didn't get his way. Well, that's not exactly true, but I can't get ahead of myself.

Finally, there was John Masters. He ran "The Book Worm," the only real bookstore in Brook's Falls. He was also the closest thing I had to a true friend there. Whenever I needed to get away, he seemed to know exactly what book I needed and would most times just lend them to me fully aware he wasn't likely to get them back.

John was a short man, but strong. His chiseled features showing only the very beginnings of age but not diminishing his handsomeness, his dark hard only starting to pepper with gray. He never married either, not that anyone could remember, but that was excusable. John used to be an Astronaut and he always had such stories to tell. At his home, he had a large telescope that he would spend hours upon hours gazing through, counting the craters on the moon or naming off stars he knew he would never go to. He had this love affair with space that only the most seasoned seamen could understand. Sometimes he would say that he could hear it calling to him, the "void" as he called it. His nightly vigils and my presence in them became a ritual. He would even test me on facts about our galaxy.

I was at "The Book Worm" when the news that would forever change mine and everyone else's world was announced. It's funny how not even the passing of time can make one forget where they were at when they first heard or saw something life changing. There are still some older people that remember exactly where they were when Kennedy died or where they were when the World Trade Center was destroyed, though that was not so long ago. But I remember that I was in "The Book Worm" and I was thumbing through a copy of "War of the Worlds."

Miss Grier, the town Librarian was in for her weekly purchase of salacious romance novels which she purchased with all the suspicion of a drug addict getting his fix. As john rang her up, the small television behind the counter showed a football game. The Packer's were getting trounced badly.

"Picking up a few pointers, Evelyn?" John said with a wink. Miss Grier blushed and lowered her head a little. She was a wiry old woman that some say was, at one time, the most beautiful woman in town. I couldn't see it beneath that wrinkled scowl and grayed hair forced into a tight bun.

"Now John Masters, you know I'm too old for such things."

"Never too old, Evelyn. You're never too old to live."

"When you reach our age, you need be thinking more about the hereafter and less about . . . " She looked down at the cover of one of her books, a shirtless man with a chiseled chest held a barely clad woman tightly in his arms. "Pleasures of the flesh."

"Well, I'm keeping all the bases covered, just in case the hereafter isn't all it's advertized." John favored her with another wink. The old woman blushed in return as she grabbed her bundle.

While all this was going on, the conversation between John and Miss Grier, my thumbing through the book I was thinking about "borrowing," I noticed that the game on the television had suddenly grown quiet. I barely had time to look up to see what was the matter before Mitch Daniels came running in, broom still in his hand and face as white as a sheet.

"Heya Mitch," John said dismissively, then got a better look at him. "What's the problem?"

"T-t-t-t-the t-t-t-t-elevision . . . " He managed. His stutter had been progressively worse, another side effect of the accident.

John turned around and saw what he was trying to say. The game was gone and replaced by a podium. A nervous little man stood behind the podium, his brow glistening with sweat. On the face of the podium was the seal of the President of the United States.

"As of 11:42 A.M., Eastern Standard Time, satellites have confirmed the presence of what can only be described as an Unidentified object. Its current position and rate of speed have it entering the Earth's atmosphere within 48 hours."

By this time, the store had grown full. People off the streets as well as people who owned businesses were huddled around this tiny television staring in shocked silence.

"The object," the man continued. "Appears to be a craft of some kind. We have attempted communication with the suspected vessel and, as of yet, have received no response."

There was a sudden barrage of questions. The man gazed anxiously back and forth.

"There is no cause for alarm," The man said. "The President will make an official statement within the next two hours. I am afraid I have no further information for you at this time."

And that was it. The man excused himself and vanished behind a curtain, leaving nothing but questions and nagging uncertainty. The book store was deadly silent, still waiting for some reassurance themselves or waiting for someone to come on and tell them this was a huge joke. It just didn't seem real. If you ask anyone now, they'll say that was their first reaction and rightfully so. It was all like a dream at first, some strange dream that I was sure I was going to wake up from. I looked down from the television set at the cover of the book in my hands. There was a huge walking machine firing rays of heat into the city. I felt a shiver as though I was looking at tomorrow's newspaper.

In a daze, the crowd dispersed, going back to their routines with almost mechanical ease. Everyone was in a trance. Nobody spoke a word of what they had just heard, not just yet. Maybe they were afraid to speak it aloud. Maybe they just didn't have any words for it. Either way, it was strangely normal immediately following that. Every station was doing around the clock coverage and having analysts and astronomers throw in their theories and ideas. They replayed that same speech over and over again and showed satellite photos of a blurry speck of light in space. I stayed in the bookstore and stared, transfixed, at what was unfolding before me.

John, however, did the oddest thing. He picked up the book he was reading, opened it to the dog-eared page and started reading again.

"Aren't you scared?" I said. He dog-eared a new page and closed the book. He looked at me for a moment as if trying to find the right words. I saw no fear in him at all.

"One thing I learned Danny is that we have very little control over anything save ourselves. Now if we can control ourselves, then we're doing well. Worrying is for people with something to worry about already. Now why don't you take that book and go on home now. Your mother must be home by now and she needs you Danny, now more than ever, you know that."

I nodded. Suddenly the fear of the images from so far away was gone, to be replaced by my own worldly concerns. Yes, my mother did need me. More and more each day it seemed. So, I took the book and walked outside. Like everyone else, I pretended that everything was going to be okay. Little did I know that my world would come crashing down around me in the most terrifying of ways.

When I got home, my mother was already in bed asleep. It was only 5:30. I looked at the pill bottle on the headboard and new the reason. She was taking more and more of these pills lately. They made her sleep a great deal and I knew that sleeping was all she'd wanted to do these days.

I went into the kitchen to fix my own dinner. For a moment, I could see the back door open and my father coming in with a big grin plastered on his face and his arms opened as wide as he could get them. That wasn't real though, nor was it true. He wouldn't be coming in that door. That's why my mother slept all the time. That was what made me different from all the other kids. It still hurt when I was that young, to see all of my friends doing things with their father. When he got sick, I hated him at first. I was only seven and couldn't understand why he only wanted to lie in bed all the time and couldn't do things for us, for me. For the longest time, mother didn't even sleep on his side of the bed, instead stacking it with pillows on which she'd sprinkled a little of his cologne. I guess that stopped working and the pills were all there were.

I turned on the television and tried to take my mind off the dreadful promise of the events of the day. I was probably one of the few that couldn't tell you what the President said on that day. A lot of people have it committed to memory and I'm sure they could tell you. Whatever it was, I do know it did little to stop what was inevitable. His words certainly didn't strike much resonance in my little corner of the world.

In my own time, I have come to learn that information can be dangerous. Too much can make you paranoid, not enough can make you insane. The human mind is like that. We're fond of coming up with all these "what if" doomsday scenarios. The television people were not helping matter much, raising the questions about whether or not these were hostile creatures. One astronomer even claimed to have seen what appeared to be cannons off the port bow of the ship. The problem was that too little information was being presented and that left a lot of room for people to make up their own minds.

A well-known Television Evangelist swore this "craft" was a harbinger for "the end of the world" and blamed liberals and homosexuals for angering God. Others turned this event into a political tug of war, one side blaming the other for allowing this to happen. "If we only had a Missile defense Shield . . . "

I would like to think that if things were a little different, if this were another time that what happened next would not have happened. I'd like to think a lot of things. Regardless of that, it did happen. Someone, somewhere started spreading the rumor that there was radio communication between "normal citizens" and this alien craft. The story sounded good enough and it didn't hurt ratings. What difference did it make if it was true or not?

By the next day, it was obvious things had changed. There was a run on everything from dried goods to toilet paper. Josiah was doing quite well as people bought gas masks and guns and flak jackets. It didn't seem like ti took much for everyone to fall apart. And it was all over the world.

In the Middle East, rockets were being aimed at the sky in hopes of shooting the thing down. In Texas, people were taking potshots at airplanes and just about anything else airborne. Every major city was placed on the highest state of alert. Random acts of violence roamed virtually unchecked. In Georgia, a ham radio operator was killed, his equipment smashed by a bunch of thugs that were sure he was communicating vital information to the space craft.

And the world continued to move despite all of this. Even in my corner of the world, The Citizen's Coalition was called to a meeting that very day to go over disaster plans. I don't know why I went to the meeting. Maybe I was curious. Maybe I was hoping for some reassurance. I was scared too. I remember that. Visions of inhuman things slaughtering us like cattle, of my little world crumbling down around me filled me with dread and, yes, anger. I was enraged at these monsters whom I had never seen, enraged that they could so callously disrupt my life.

Everyone was there, save for my mother who had done her nightly dose and was out like a light. Lee Tredwell opened the proceedings with an urging that we remain calm until we have more information. Of course, he followed that up by telling everyone that the firehouse had a bomb shelter.

Josiah was there too. After the mayor finished his little speech, Josiah stood up.

"So that's it? We hide like rabbits in a hole and let these, these things overtake us? Not here, not these people. Are any of you willing to allow our way of life to be destroyed by these invaders? These enemies of humanity? We can and should fight back! We should fight for our very survival, fight for our freedoms and fight for-"

"Fight for what?" There was a murmur. John was sitting in the back of the assembly, as calm and as casually as always. "We're not even sure there's an enemy yet."

"It is just that kind of thinking that has led to disastrous consequences. The terrorist acts that we allowed to happen by our own unwillingness to get a little blood on our hands!" Josiah said.

"Careful you have the right blood on your hands," John said. "It may not wash off."

"It has been said, and I believe it to be so, that there are people among us who are working in collaboration with this new enemy. John masters here was with NASA, remember? He also has a telescope and a long range radio just right for sending information. Have you been communicating with the enemy, Mr. Masters?"

John leaned back and smirked. "No Josiah, I have not been communicating with the enemy. Now why don't you sit down before you make more of an ass out of yourself than you already have."

Now Lee Marshak stood up.

"I've seen John here looking through his telescope every night. He's even said to me that it 'calls to him'."

Now Miss Grier spoke out.

"He was the only one of us NOT surprised by the news yesterday. Remember?"

There was a muttering from the crowd. I was getting more than a little nervous myself. I looked at John who seemed so calm and cool on the surface. Was it possible? Could he have been communicating with these things? My young mind reached to find another possible answer, but could not. He did have a long range radio and had told me he used it to send signals out in space. And Miss Grier did have a point. He was oddly calm that day, more so than the rest of us.

"Can you answer for any of this Mr. Masters?" The mayor said. He was more grave this time. His round owlish face drew in at the brow and swelled red with anger.

"Yes, it's called paranoia." Was his answer.

"That thing up there is not a paranoid delusion!" Josiah shouted. "It is very real, but you already know that, don't you Mr. Masters? You already know that because you've been communicating with them."

"I don't believe this." John scoffed.

"I took the liberty, fellow citizens, of doing a little background check on our John Masters. He has a history of treacherous behavior. He was arrested in 1972 at an Anti-American Demonstration. He was also arrested again in 2001 for the exact same offense. Anyone that would side with terrorist monsters over their own country should be hung!"

"And anyone who would seek to destroy the foundation of this country by stifling freedom of expression should be hung right next to him."

"Answer for your actions here, Masters!" Josiah grabbed the wooden railing at the head of the assembly.

"I don't have to answer to you for anything. My life is mine."

"In 24 hours time, this enemy will be at the gate. And this man is only one of many that will help them in destroying our very civilization."

"You're insane, Josiah. You're mad and you insist on taking everyone with you."

It was clear by this point that Josiah was running the Coalition. The Mayer sat back in his chair and allowed him the floor. The people I'd known all my life, grew up with, mowed their lawns in the summertime were now different somehow. With each word Josiah spoke, they seemed more and more sucked in. I watched as this group of people went from being people to being a mob.

"Is it insane to want to preserve our freedom? Is it insane to want to live in peace? Is it insane to want to fight for that peace?"

"You're as free as you allow yourself. Peace is a myth, especially when you have to fight for it."

"Search this man's house!" Josiah said. Break down the doors if you have to. The evidence is all there.

"You can't do that," John said. "Last time I checked you didn't have the authority."

"Oh no," Josiah crossed the railing and went into the mob. "You're not going to hide behind that. Your kind always does that. You abuse our freedoms to destroy them."

"There is no need to search my home, but if you must, you must. In less than 24 hours you're all going to have a lot to answer for. You and a lot of other folks."

"You're the one that'll have to answer." Josiah said. "And when we find out that you're a traitor to your own species, we're going to deal with it in the best possible way."

"And what way would that be?"

"I'll let the people decide that. In the meantime, don't you think about going anywhere."

"I wouldn't dream of it." John said, making himself comfortable.

Josiah arranged for four men to go to John's house. John was still sitting in the back, flanked by four men on either side of him. There was an eerie silence in the proceedings. After a few hours had passed, the man returned with a box of tapes and the radio itself.

"It's true!" Lee Marshak said in shock. "It's all true. He has been communicating with the enemy. It's all on these tapes."

There were gasps of surprise. I am sure mine were among them.

"What do you have to say for yourself now, Masters?" Josiah said glibly.

"It doesn't matter, does it? You want blood, you want a face to put on your fear because that'll make you feel better. You won't understand what's really going on until tomorrow."

"Have you or have you not been communicating with these creatures?"

"Yes" John said.

"Now we finally have the truth!" Josiah said. "This man is a traitor and should be dealt with accordingly. What we do here tonight is for our own safety, our own protection. We are trying to preserve the human way of life, but more than that, we are trying to preserve the American way of life. Think about it, all of you, the terrible suffering we've all had to endure. For what? For being American. We have suffered long and hard and fought to keep our precious freedoms while men like John Masters stalk in the shadows trying to destroy everything that we've built through blood, sweat and tears."

"The President is an idiot!" John said. "Winding all of you people up and letting you loose to act like a bunch of savages."

"You dare insult our commander-in-chief during a time of war? You're more of a lowlife than I'd thought."

"You dare think it treason to insult the President? And you claim to want to secure freedom. At what cost? My life? Who else? Where do we draw the line between liberty and safety? We build walls around our country, then the 'threat' comes from somewhere else. What now? We build a wall around our planet? In all of this constant search for safety, for security. In all of this constantly searching for an enemy, when do we get to enjoy our freedoms? Our liberty? Our lives? We are sad creatures indeed that we would allow ourselves to hide, how did you put it, Josiah? 'Like rabbits in a hole'? Now let me educate you. Let me tell you the truth though I am sure you're not going to like it."

"Do you even know what truth is, traitor?"

"Most of the time," John stood up. "We've had some rough times, people. We're just coming off very dark times indeed. Remember how terrified we were then? Remember how we were terrified the world would come to an end or that we'd see more planes crashing into buildings? Do you people really remember nothing? You want your enemy? I'll give him to you. He has a face and a name. Just look in the mirror and there is its face. Its name is fear. Fear is the greatest threat to our way of life. Fear is the only thing that can destroy our freedoms, our liberty, our spirit. When we give into fear, we become animals willing to kill on the whims of one terrified little man. Can't you see that? Fear is what kills us. Living in fear is not living at all.

"Yes, it is true I established communication with this craft several weeks ago. But, this ship will not enter our atmosphere. It will pass us by."

"More lies meant to make us complacent. Vigilance is what we need."

"Vigilance is for the vigilantes, Josiah."

"And how did you speak with these monsters that will not even address our national leaders? Why you and nobody else? Are you not, in fact, a spy for these monsters?"

"No, I am not. Let me explain a few things to you people. I don't know how much it matters now, but you wanted answers, I will give them to you. I did protest two wars. I have never protested against America, just some of their policies. I protested against a war we had no business being involved in, like many other did. I also protested acting rashly and starting a war in 2001. A war that did result in more loss of life and less safety and freedom.

"Two weeks ago, while sending random radio waves through space, I picked up what was obviously a communication. They were also using radio waves as they are easy to decode into a simple language. After some time, I was able to establish direct communication with a species of travelers."

"The traitor admits to his deed!" Josiah said. "What more do we need?"

"There is more," John said. "Much more. They will not be landing here, as they had intended because I warned them off. I warned them that if they did we'd be stupid enough to kill them. I told them all about our species, how we crave war, how we need an enemy, the less like us the better. I told them all about how much ease there is in killing our own kind, a notion they had a great deal of trouble understanding. See, they don't believe in killing their own kind no matter what. They were coming here because we invited them. We invited them years ago with the Voyager probe. We invited them by sending signals out in space in hopes something would hear them. I rescinded that invitation. I told them how dangerous we are. I see I was right. I know all of you and you know me yet you're willing to kill me because you think I am something I am not. You're willing to kill me because you're afraid and that makes you dangerous.

"They said they were coming to offer us gifts. They're explorers, not conquerors. Scientists really. They were excited about the prospect of finding life as they are. And yes, they are just like us, actually. From the description they gave me, identical to humans. They were going to give us a renewable, clean burning fuel source as well as tools to eliminate poverty. Well, we threw that all away by being petty, spiteful, vindictive people who believe that violence should be answered with violence that blood for blood is justice. Our great emperor is fear and we are all too easily frightened. So, the long and short of it is that they are not coming because we're simply not worthy of their time. We're the bad part of town and you can bet their doors are going to be locked as they fly past as quickly as possible. I can't say as how I blame them."

An uneasy silence filled the room. Josiah was still standing, grasping for something to say, something to hold onto. I could see it though, his hold on the situation was breaking, his enemy was gone. A sad thing really, to only exist for an enemy. Now I know what I saw in his face as he sat down. It was not remorse at the way he had behaved, rather a crushing sadness that his hope had been lost. He was hoping for an enemy and found himself sorely disappointed.

As Josiah sat, the clouds lifted from everyone else. They began to look down, but not at each other. I guess they just couldn't muster the ability to have someone look them in the eyes. I watched with realization that must have struck a few of the others as well, the realization that humanity had been down this road before, as far back as the Spanish Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, The Holocaust, The Blacklist. Humanity had been down this road so many times yet had not learned that this road only leads to the same place. Be careful what you hate, you always become that which you hate the most.

As you already know, it did happen exactly as John said it would. The ship flew past us so quickly it was just a flicker in the night sky. Only a few people turned up outside to watch it whiz past. To watch and wonder "what if?" It would seem that many of them learned nothing if they were still asking that.

Everyone kind of drifted apart after that, or maybe I just grew up. Things always look different through the eyes of a child. October 11 became a thing nobody there ever really talked about. No different from millions of other towns or cities all over the world. Sure, maybe it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It wasn't as bad as a few other places. Still in all there were a lot of people that had to answer for a lot of things they just couldn't answer for. There are times even still that I think about that night and start to wonder "what if." Of course I stop myself. There are always a million "what ifs" and only one reality. We make the best of what we have, try to be decent and hope for the best. In the end, hope is really all we have to cling to. Fear is the enemy, hope is the hero.