Independence

18th September 2014 - the day that changed the world.

It was already a huge day in the history of the world anyway, because of the upcoming votes whether or not to keep Great Britain. But this wasn't the only world-changing event that happened that day. Soon, rumours would be spread, suspicion would broaden, doubts would be created and turn to fear.

19th September, and the days leading up to it, was momentous. Nobody suspected that anything traumatic or earth-changing could happen.

On the morning of 18th September, I dragged out of bed at six, got my breakfast, then went off to work.

There were no notable events happening the previous day or the day before - just the usual events about Gaza and the Isis atrocities. These had been on the News all week, nothing odd there.

As I drove out to work nothing remarkable happened, but as I got to work, I heard on the radio just before I turned in that the predicted outcome of results was Yes. It was something I had had hopes for, and how I wish I hadn't.

I slumped into the office.

"Have you heard the News?" asked Mark, the boss, as I got to the seat.

"Yes," I said, "I sure hope they win."

"Well, I don't" he said. I stared at him. "Ignorant bastards ruined my work. Now I'm a laughing stock up there. I used to work in Scotland but now I have lost my courage to return. I was kicked out, by a fraudster, one of my friends."

I thought he seemed really angry, like someone who, backing into a car park, thinks the person driving out next to them is driving out, and so I left him to it. The day passed in silence with nothing unusual happening.

I got onto the News later at home in preparation for the date. 19th, tomorrow, was going to be the date of Independence. Independence Day for Scotland, I realized, knowing this would only happen once. Logging onto MSN, I looked at the News. It was all the usual stuff - Gaza, the chess championships, nothing remarkable.

When I woke up the next morning I woke up as if somebody had thrown an ice bucket over me, I woke up at 4.04. I remembered, out of nowhere, an urban legend that said if one wakes up at that time without any reason, its a chance somebody is staring at you. I woke up anyway, but got onto MSN.

No votes yet. I sighed and turned over. But before I did, it had an article which confused me. I looked at it a while. It was odd.

SCOTLAND WILL DECLARE BRITAIN NATIONALIZED IF VOTE SAYS YES.

I wasn't sure what this meant but had nagging doubts in my gut all morning. I didn't have breakfast, as I was too queasy. Finally, at 9, on my way to work, I heard the votes which came in.

You could tell who at work was pleased by this and who wasn't. Those irritating activists were happy by the successful votes because it meant history had happened and they had seen it. Ha ha. But the rationalizers, the ones that saw this as nothing to worry about, were doubtful.

It turns out that they were not undefined.

Over the next few weeks, after Scotland had voted, thousands of tourists began pouring in all over the country, into Britain, into London, from Scotland. From there they spread out like cats on a hunting mission. They settled in towns and cities out in the country. They knew they would be welcomed because they had won, and nobody in their right minds would be ungrateful or hostile to them in their victory.

Things seemed to go on despite various depressions over the vote. People seemed to be more or less content, much as they had when Jack the Ripper's identity was revealed. For many, it was a new great adventure.

And it was. But not in the way I suspected.

In February 2015, there were reports of vandalism in London, all the offenders had dealt massive human and property damage - but all the looters had, for some reason, been Scottish.

This was repeated, once a month, twice a month, soon every week. Violence was rare in Britain, more so in England. But this was slowly getting bigger. Not only street crime - every so often it would turn to Internet fraud, having left the streets - then it would go back again.

Of course, the police were called in. But they could do nothing.

Many whispered the police's inaction was due to some officers themselves being Scottish and denying their fellow Scots to be stopped.

The violence continued, more stabbings, even beheadings, on the streets, all their victims, as I say, were English.

It started with the English Jihadists then moved onto civilians.

Soon, England was a country out of control, and now I was determined to get to the cause of it all.

I made an appointment to see the Scottish minister for foreign affairs in the British embassy, now the Scottish embassy, in London. I said I was to see the minister. I met him, talked about the situation, and what all this imperialism and nationalism meant, but couldn't find any answers to the situation.

Once, during the talk, the minister made to excuse himself for the toilet. I was left sitting in the office. Rather than return though as he should have done I decided to wait ten more minutes then look for him.

I looked down in the toilet, and found one door locked. The minister was indeed in there, but he was speaking, seeming to himself.

"Tell me great master, what shall I do now?"

Then he seemingly answered himself: "Kill them."

"Why and how?" he asked.

"You, you just do what I say, you don't question GOD's commands, do you?" he answered himself, in what was now becoming a one-sided, disturbing conversation.

"But why must I destroy them?"

"Because, the English are thieves, imperialists, and murderers. Believe me. You have been oppressed too long. You may hear what your actions are as imperialism, but its NOTHING compared to them."

Curious to know what he was talking about like this, I snuck into the cubicle next to his, climbed onto the toilet, and looked over the rim of the wall.

The man was in there, not going to the toilet; he was just standing in front of the broad mirror which faced him.

The man's reflection was looking at him, pasty and unsure, but after a while I saw the reflection do the most astonishing thing.

While the man himself stayed still, the reflection turned up, saw me, gave me a cheery wave and smiled.

I backed down, shaking, and could only go outside to the hallway and stare at the cubicle.

I do believe I found the answers to the atrocities that day - and could have done something to stop. But, however, as the crimes committed in the name of Independence escalates - I have to ask myself, even if I could stop them, would I really want to?

Especially orders that come from God.