• Once upon a time (75 million years ago to be more precise) there was an alien galactic ruler named Xenu. Xenu was in charge of all the planets in this part of the galaxy including our own planet Earth, except in those days it was called Teegeeack. It sounds unbelievable, right? Well, it’s kind of like a story I heard a while back. Once upon a time, one male was born, he was born of divine blood and raised with peasants. He could do whatever he wants, using magic to turn liquids into liquor, turn a liquid into a solid. His father was there, not specifically born. His father worked tirelessly for people who didn’t appreciate him, and he even was able to make this world in a matter of days. If someone does not accept his son as their savior, they will burn in a pit of burning, fiery, painful and eternal damnation. But he loves all of his children, even those who are not followers.

    Don’t screw up, is the moral of THAT story. Either way, I’m a believer. A believer in Xenu. And as I sit here, listening to this story I begin to wonder… how could anyone not believe this? I mean, it makes sense. “Alright,” my mentor finishes speaking. “It’s time, you have heard the story of how we started, how Scientology came to be. Do you have any questions?” As Al, short for Alberda, extends his hand to me, I feel my arm quiver. As I grasp his hand. I wanted to say a lot to him, but at this point, I had no words. “Congratulations, you are now of OT III level.” OT stood for Operating Thetan, and I am the third rank. They answered my question on what prevents me from being myself, or you from being yourself.

    I could only feel my heart pounding, right now. My Thetan was happy, for sure. Just finally reaching the next level. I quickly dart out and run back to my apartment, and I barely reach for my keys when a male walks out, his face hidden by a mask. He looked a lot like someone I had seen before, but I couldn’t tell. As he walks he nods to me and I nod back, politely. As he leaves I open up the door and walk through, my body wanders aimlessly upwards, ironically, to room 666. It was rarely occupied by previous residents, due to the superstition. The rent was real cheap, though, because of the lack of occupancy. On my payroll, I really couldn’t afford much more. As I wander up the steps I reach the sixth floor mailboxes. I look at the box which was mine, I push my key in and it makes, as always, an ominous noise. Kerrrrchunk! It always scared the living hell out of me, no pun intended, of course. As I open the box, I pull out three letters. Two from my church, and one from an anonymous person. I walk down the hall gazing at the letter from Anon and I almost walked passed my room.

    Damn, I forgot to get a haircut today. It looks a bit shabby when I don’t cut it. I grab my apartment key and I push it to the lock. It always has troubles going in. It takes a couple jiggles and eventually my full force to push passed the barrier, but, it gets in alright after hassling with it for what always seems to be twenty minutes. After I get passed the barred gate, I enter the cold room. During the summer this place gets as hot as an amateur hooker on her first night out so I am forced to put the place in an extraordinary cold temperature.

    I slam the door and walk to the kitchen table. I throw the two letters from my church down, and I open up Anon’s letter. It reads:

    Dear Mr. Lottick, When I heard about your father, it was a tragedy, but that’s the human cost you pay for being in such a tragic organization. I did not know about your father prior to my own organization’s involvement in such illustrious acts of violence committed by your own church. It disgusts me and the people whom I have come to you to represent. You have undoubtedly seen me before, and I would like you to know one thing. Watch. Your. Back. The Co$ is out for everyone who doesn’t pay the cost, and they will use whatever force is necessary. I have come to warn you because your father has suffered a fate which he cannot undo, and the media misrepresents any organization. You have been warned. PS: Lisa McPherson.

    What a creeper. What does he mean by he knew my father? Either way, he is probably a nut job looking to convert believers of other faiths into Christianity. Damn religious idealists, bastards. I wonder who the Co$ is, a dollar sign? Must be a government thing. I look at my two letters from my church. I open up the first one which reads:

    Dear Mr Lottick, Thank you for purchasing the Academy Levels Lecture Full Set, your donation to the Church of Scientology will not go without notice. You have purchased a wonderful piece of material that will build your enthusiasm for Scientology. You have decided to pay in increments to make the full payment. You chose the payment option of $96.38 per month for 12 months. The Church of Scientology thanks you, and remember, Xenu Saves.
    - Church of Scientology HQ

    I open up the second letter which reads:

    Dear Mr. Lottick, we thank you for your added interest in the Church of Scientology, however, a couple of your payments have been missed. You have requested the following: Levels 0 – IV Certainty Courses ($960.00) x 3, Levels 0-IV Auditor Certainty ($6,000), OT I ($2,120), OT II ($4,160), OT III($7,040.00) and the This is Scientology DV ($647). You have requested to have a hold put on it, and you have paid approximately $2,329.32 on a bill that is, after the deduction, $18,597.68. This is prior to the costs of the courses needed to advance, including the costs of what are needed to advance the total then becomes $116,357.68. We have been generous enough to allow you to get through three Operating Thetan courses without pay, but now we are letting you know that you owe us. We would like our payment by the end of next week, if you do not give us the money, action will be taken.
    - Church of Scientology HQ

    My eyes widen. “One hundred…sixteen…thousand, three hundred and…fifty seven dollars!? No, no, no this can’t be right.” I run to the door and I slam it shut as I now blazingly run down the stairs and reach the front porch. Mask man is back. I can’t deal with him today. I run as fast as I can down the street to the church. I rush in and I look for Al. “Al! Hey, Al!” I feel a hand on my shoulder, I grab it and turn around in a blind fury, almost punching my friend in the face. “Hey, Al! Oh, sorry—you, you said that you were, you know, OT VI, right?” Al bows his head.

    “Yes, yes I am, John. Why?” He looks into my eyes and nods.

    “Well, here, look at this, is this right?” I pull the letter with the estimate out and I ask him. “This is a joke, right? I really don’t owe…$116,357.68 do I?” Al reads the note and laughs as he shakes his head.

    “No, no John you don’t owe that.” I breathe a sigh of relief, happy that he said that. “It’s just a bit higher, you see, you also have to account for the Dianetics teaching, the certainty reading, the two solo courses to prepare you for the OT training and eligibility, and then the three OTs. So I’d say you take that…and just add probably thirty thousand more, and you’re about right.” My mouth drops, I could just feel it unhinge and almost break my jaw in half. How could…Co$...the Church of $cientology. Oh, god. Why didn’t I put it together. “You will have the money by next Wednesday, right?” Al questions me.

    “Oh—oh sure, yeah. I’ve been saving up for all this, I thought that I owed more that’s why I asked you so I wouldn’t have to get another letter like this.” Damn, my lying sucks. But it’s enough to have him believe for now. Okay, now what do I do. Damn, damn. Anon was right. I’m screwed, and not in the good way. I walk out of the church and I rush back to my apartment, as the streets, people, lights and surroundings fly by I don’t even bother to stop for anything. Gun shots go off, lights flicker, I hear shouting. Everything happens all at once and finally I enter my home. I realize now that this won’t work. I can’t do this. I walk to the table and I look to see another letter. I forgot to lock the door. It’s from Anon again. No, I don’t want to open it, I can’t, not this time. Start packing, start packing. I bring myself to my room and I go on the computer hidden in the corner.

    I look at the windows and I look around, the tree across the street moved, it wasn’t windy, oh well. Doesn’t matter—I’m not the weather man. Okay—go online. Google…wait. Lisa MicFerson. I google it. Did you mean: Lisa McPherson? Damn. Yeah—that. Okay, let’s see what is it. Who is she…wait—this girl? She died in 1995, she paid… that much?! Ninety-seven grand? Oh god… that’s barely the tip of what I got. I stop and think for a minute. Wait…my father. Noah Lottick.

    The shock…my father. He. Okay, I have to get out, okay start packing up. Packing packing, oh no. I only have four hundred dollars with me in my account. I grab my suit case and just begin to stuff it full of clothing and things I’ll need at a later date. I just need to flee the state there is no way that they’ll find me once I leave. I grab my case and I slam it shut, setting the lock. 6624 on one side and 5688 on the other. I look at the letters, I’ve always admired my father. “N O A H, L O T T” I say aloud. I pat the suitcase, grab it, and lift it up. Off I go, where I’m going, no one will know. As I rush out of the apartment I am confronted by Al. “Oh—hey!” I shout in my best friendly voice. His eyes are dark. I step back. “Um,” I stammer. “I hey—look, I have to catch a plane my work needs me in Dallas tonight.” Lie. “I’ll be back in three days.” Lie.
    This isn’t like Al, he’s normally happy. He takes a step to me, and I step back. Step by step we do this. I then turn and run, he chases after me. I grab a vase here and there and throw it in the path of him to slow him down, actually. I was hoping the shards would fly up and possibly blind him, but it didn’t work that way in real life. Running, damn—this is like a dream, a nightmare, actually. Kind of like in those zombie movies. As I keep running my former collegue chases me down I was running up the stairs now and he was close behind me. I reach the sixth floor and he reaches it a second after I do. I am on the final leg now, sprint sprint sprint. I see the safe zone. I’m running I’m running.

    My eyes open and I look around. This isn’t a normal place. Where is it. It’s…oh—it’s a basement. Always a great scene, as I’m waking up, I wonder where I am, main street, maybe. How did I get here. I think I was running and something happened. I don’t think I have anything anymore, no wallet, no suitcase. I then see Al, he’s glaring at me. “Oh, uh, hey.” He walks over to me and slaps my face hard, Rhianna probably felt the same way I do right now. Betrayed, pissed, and delusional.

    I look up at Al and I sigh. I didn’t know that I would be screwed over this badly, or even at all. This is just a pain in my a**. Al places his hand on my head and pulls it back hard. Damn that hurts! I bite my lip hard and feel a sharp pain as I now note that his punch struck me so hard I couldn’t breathe. Here I am having, and trying to survive this torture, already just from a punch and a slap. Lisa McPherson…what she went through was terrible, and I might go through the same thing, being eaten by bugs and going through severe dehydration. And my father whom was forced to jump from the highest part of the building because he couldn’t pay his funds was also forced to deal with the humiliation of being broke.

    As I sit here, my eyes wander around the room, what was I supposed to think at this point. Honestly, what do people think around this time when they think they’re gonna die what is it that they are supposed to think of, now that I realize I’m going to die…I really can’t think of anything else. That’s it, I’m dead, I might as well just close my eyes and bite the bullet.
    My body rises up and I look around. “D-dad?” I see my father, it was a late night. I smile, oh it was just a bad dream. I stand up and walk to my father, he was standing near the window. “Hey, dad…I had a bad dream. I had a dream that you died.” I kept looking at him, he was staring off into the distance, the wonderful city lights glowing to make the night slightly more ominous. I could not believe how beautiful this creepy night looked. I lean my body against my father, but he stays as still as a painting. I see him move forward and my eyes stay fixated on him. “Dad?” One step, two step, three step. His foot rests on the windowsill and I look at his right hand holding about two hundred dollars. My eyes lock on it and I see him leap from the window.

    I lean over the window myself, leaning more and more until I couldn’t move. I see his clothing wave in the wind as the money begins slipping out bill after bill. As he falls I see a bird fly in the dim light, and it is squashed by my father’s falling body. The lights below were so luminescent that I could even spot a penny on the sidewalk. His body falls further and further…I could see feathers flying up passed his falling body—he looked like an angel…falling from heaven. Then everything turns.

    His head begins to aim more toward the ground and his eyes gaze down, toward his feet, and they look up at me. I continue to look at his eyes, now specs so it was hard. The gleam in his eye I always immersed myself in when I was sad was still there until the glimmer was replaced with a crimson sheet. This sheet looked a lot like a satin cover over a dying body. I saw the image of my eye, the hero of my day, the idol of my life die before my eyes. Normally you would hear about what happened…but it is too hard for me to describe. It just…it is disgusting.

    My own eyes jolt open and I awaken. Woah…a dream in another dream? That is always possible, I suppose. Where am I? At first, I must say, I feel like I am laying down but, since a chair is under me that must mean I am where I was last. I’m still screwed. Damn, my father had a good idea. But, who is here…? No one is here. A man with a mask steps in. It’s THE man with the mask. Here I am tied up, and a man with a mask walks in. In most situations this would be considered rape on so many levels…but he walks to me, cuts me free and laughs half-heartedly.

    “Apparently, sir, you did not read the letter in which I wrote for you to look-over before packing your clothing to leave. Had you, you would know everything you needed to know. So, John, for that I am going to ask for my letter back so that no one else can see the contents of i—” and a bullet flies through his skull, then through the mask flying right passed me. Red stains the cheeks of his mask, and blood pushes out of the mouth of the mask. The already ominous looking mask holds a new fear, death. Originally it was anonymity, now it’s the fear that soon any anonymity will die, with a metaphorical bullet. Anonymity…Anon. This…was. I look up and I see Al standing there looking at me.

    “I didn’t want to have to do this—but who am I kidding, I really did want to kill you. I mean, I thought we could be together as partners, but obviously you had your own little agenda. You are a broke b*****d who can’t afford our services and thus since you cannot, you must die.” As he holds up a gun I look up to the sky and I close my eyes. I kneel down and place my hands together. As my breathing subsides I think, what would my father do? Did not work, as I stand up I realize what I should have learned. I reach forward and Al pulls the trigger.

    A bullet shoots through my hand and the blood splashes my face. I grab the gun as hard as I could and I begin to bleed all over the gun. As I do I begin to lean forward and I hear another shot, but the bullet rips right through my already cut skin. My weight pushes Al to the ground and I look into his eyes.

    “I hope you burn in hell you piece of crap.” As I say that my anger pulses and I grab his throat with my other hand and I clench it. As his face turns a light plum-red color I gaze into his blood-shot eyes. I smile and his eyes stay wide open and his struggle ends. As I sigh a breath of relief I stand up. I turn around and I begin to walk out. You know that feeling you get when you finish a job you’ve been waiting so long to finish? That’s how I felt. I still have those debts…but I killed a man. And it felt great.