My Entry For The Fictioneers Writing Contest - Man v. Society

Hey y'all! This is my entry for @jrhughes writing contest, themed Man v. Society. I call it A Nation of Renters.

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“Mr. Harrison, you may proceed with your closing argument.”

It was a strange feeling, stepping up from his chair at the defendant’s table. All of the anxiety melted away. Right then, in that moment, he was exactly where he needed to be. It took him a moment to marshal his thoughts, and the silence hung oppressively in the courtroom. He cleared his throat and began speaking.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I want to thank you all for being here. You have an important decision before you. A long time ago, when this nation was founded, the people who wanted a strong authority declared that the government should have the right to take your home as it pleased. Sure, they’d pay you a pittance for it, what they like to call ‘fair market value.’ But at the end of the day, the government had the authority to tell you to move out. In that very same document, those same men declared that all people had a right to be secure in their persons, property, and personal effects. The question before you isn’t whether I violated a federal order to give my house up to the government. We all know I did. The question before you is whether the law that says the government can take what it wants, property owner be damned, is valid.”

He took a deep breath, looking to the judge before turning back to the jury. He knew he would come to the end of his rope sooner rather than later, but it didn’t matter. He’d say what he came here to say.

“Are we owners? Or are we renters? When you buy a house, aren’t you supposed to own that house? What if you buy land? How many people do you know who own an acre or two outside of town, with a house they built for their families? Don’t they own it? Haven’t they earned the right to own their homes? And yet, the government has declared they don’t own it. Not really. No, they’re just renting it from the government. Sure the government is more than happy to let them rent, until the government wants their home. Until they want that land. Then it’s time for eviction. The Constitution says one thing--that we have a right to be secure in our persons and property--but the government turns around, with that same document, and tells each of us that our property doesn’t really belong to us. We don’t own anything, really. We’re a nation of renters, to a landlord called government.”

“This is wrong. You and I both know it’s wrong. I fought for this nation. I put on a uniform and wore the flag on my right arm. I believe in the liberty that this nation was supposed to represent. And yet, here we are, with a law in the Constitution that says the government has no right to simply take our property, and another law in that same document that says it can when it wants to. What you need to do, ladies and gentlemen, is decide whether we really are supposed to be secure in our property, or whether we are really supposed to be a nation of renters, able to be displaced on the whim of some representative in D.C. What you need to do is find this law an insult to the liberty we’re supposed to have--”

“That’s enough, Mr. Harrison,” the judge warned. Harrison ignored it.

“What you need to do is nullify this unjust law. What you need--”

“That’s enough, Mr. Harrison!”

“--to do is declare that we are a nation of owners! That we will not be--”

“Mr. Harrison, if you continue you will be held in contempt!”

“--subjugated on a whim! Don’t be cowed--”

“That’s enough! Bailiff!”

“--by the state into giving up your homes!” He scarcely noticed the sheriff’s deputies approaching him with cuffs in hand, or the judge’s gavel slamming into the bar to maintain order. He strained against the bailiffs as they grabbed his arms and cuffed his wrists together. He didn’t care that they were hauling him out of the courtroom. He saw the jury, and they saw him. They were listening.

“We are a nation of free men and women!”

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