Death of a Preacher

April 8th, 2053

Someone came by last night, they told me The Preacher was dying. They said he was just giving up and passing on. He'd been the one that had planted the notion of resistance, that everything we were told and conditioned to believe was not fact. The word was that he wanted me to come by for the funeral. I'm not sure that I want to. The Preacher and I haven't spoken in a long while, the problem with teaching people to think for themselves is that they sometimes question what the teacher is telling them.

He talked of resistance and uprising. Some think The Preacher had his hand in a role in the events that got our country to the dark state that it has been reduced to. Know one really knows what or who he was before all of this. He just seemed to wander into the city and start ranting to anyone who would listen. Seems that he was just charismatic enough to gather a bit of a following and move his sermons out of the government's eye and into the underground.

He always talked of loving each other and how we should respect human life, and in the same breath would turn and spout bile of bombings and uprising. This is the reason I stopped going, stopped talking to him. The hypocrisy of his passion moved me away and shut me out. Seems that there are those who followed him blindly, even claiming responsibility for things he had done just to protect him. All in all though it seems after all this time the only thing that he couldn't charm into doing something for him was death.

Still don't know if I really want to go or not.
Maybe.