The True Diary of a Part Time Indian

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Personal Exploration on the Origins of Government
I remember the day when I first qualified my belief that government was inherently bad. The defining moment that led me to see the true nature of government was the day a police officer pointed a gun at me when I was twelve. Yes, you read that correctly, a police officer pointed a gun at a twelve year old. I’ve tried hard to forget that day, I’ve tried so very hard. I don’t like to tell the story because people either believe me because they see the police for what they really are or they just give me strange looks that unnerve me. But I never tell this story as anything other than what it was, the truth the way it happened. It all started with one particularly pleasant day, it was a day we had long since planned previously, to get together with my friends from my neighborhood and my cousins to romp around in the desert playing what I can only describe as “cowboys and indians”. The reason my cousins and friends would be coming over was because we were having a birthday party that day.We all got together to go play in the desert for expressed purpose of avoiding confused or disturbed looks from the neighbors. After all, when you’re playing with cheap, plastic BB guns ,with clearly marked orange tips, it only takes one blind idiot to spoil your whole day by calling the police. Keep in the mind that where I lived at the time was not a bad place by any means, and on top of that we lived in a relatively nicer, newer, safer part of town. Unfortunately, our foresight didn’t prevent what happened when we went out into the desert. The desert wasn’t far from our house because where we lived was once desert. Where we went to play was actually houses that had been built when the housing market crashed, it left them hollowed out husks of wood with roofs over them surrounded by an empty wasteland. After we had picked an ideal place for us at the end of the street, we consolidated our group as we took count of who would be on which team. There was me, my older brother Tim, my cousins Alex, Mark, and Louis, and my friends Charlie and Vincent. We divided the teams based on who would occupy each floor of the husk, Me, Vincent, and Mark would occupy the ground floor while Tim, Charlie, Alex, and Louis would occupy the second floor. At first, we tried to establish some rules by which we would play our game, but those only lasted a short time before our game degenerated to each team making forays to the other’s respective floor and then having both teams pelt each other with plastic pellets from behind cover. After an hour which my brother reported to us that someone had seen them through a window. This, of course, was our signal to leave. Afterall, we weren’t stupid. We knew some people wouldn’t appreciate us playing in unfinished houses, or God forbid, think we actually had guns! So we made the decision to relocate across the inclining, almost stairlike hills, which ended abruptly at the wall. The wall was a curious structure, nothing more than an oddity sandwiched between vibrant ecosystem and a barren wasteland. On the way to this wall we were inundated with the sounds of a ridiculous amount of sirens. The very sound of which sent chills down my spine and caused my brain to fire on all it’s pistons as the horrible thought that they might be for us creeped into my mind. Even at this young age, just thinking of the pig-men disturbed me so. I wasn’t old enough, nor wise enough in the ways of the world to realize what a bane dark skin was when dealing with the aforementioned blue men, but I knew well enough to know they were not my friends and their company was best avoided completely in all circumstances. Immediately upon noticing the strong police presence, and knowing that people had died for far less than playing with toys at the hands of the police, I urged my friends and family that we should turn back and head to the safety and security of our home. My companions dismissed my...
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