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All four of us vests are sitting in the corner of the van. I ask the one closest to me if he has any feelings that what we are doing is wrong. He does not seem to understand the question, misinterpreting me. He thinks that I am worried that I’m faulty and will not explode when the time comes. He reassures me, that if this happens, then it is not my fault it is the fault of our creators.

Ever since man picked up a rock and threw it at another man, you have invented weapons to kill each other. As the ages passed these weapons improved, becoming more efficient, more destructive. Why? Surely you are all the one species, different colours, different languages, different beliefs, but the same beings. What possesses you to kill those who do not have the same belief as you? How can these four young men sit here eagerly waiting for the chance to murder as many innocent children as they can. These children have done nothing wrong. They are too young for their beliefs to have even taken root. They are innocent in all respects, and yet for some reason they must pay. Pay for what? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It starts to dawn on me that your words are just as powerful as your weapons. Perhaps more so.

It’s the thoughts that come before the action. These men truly believe that their actions are justified. That killing these innocent children will somehow avenge wrongs that have been wrought on them. Who threw the first stone? Why was the stone thrown at all? This hatred must have a beginning, a genesis. Surely if words are so powerful than they can be used for good. Toleration. A single, simple word, yet if followed, more powerful than a bullet.

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