Fictional Holocaust (not that fictional)

November 14th, 1890. Sharp Words, a young man from an Apache tribe, was riding his horse through the fields near his camp. He had fallen asleep under the protecting shadow of a tree when suddenly the sun disappeared, and there was a storm. He woke up, went to his horse and tried to find the way back home. It should have been easy, but it wasn't. He was still sleepy, so he ended up getting lost in the prairie. However, the rain stopped shortly after and the sun started shining once again. Young Sharp Words smiled and continued the search for his camp.

Time passed and he saw a river which he had never seen before. "Strange", he thought, and he decided his horse should drink a little water, the animal was probably thirsty. While the horse drank some fresh water, the young indian sat on the ground, whispering a song from his elders. Suddenly he saw a man walking in his direction. It didn't look like an indian, it was a white man, all alone. Sharp Words decided not to wield any weapon, though he only had a knife with him. It was an old man, white hair, white beard, but dark skin. "What a strange man!", was the first impression by the indian. So the man got to the place where he was, and said "Hello".

"Hello", replied the indian, "Who are you? Are you lost"

"I am not lost. I am God."
"Who?", asked the curious Sharp Words.

"God. I created everything you see. I am the father of all things"

"I see", said the young indian, without saying or asking anything else. God thought that was awkward, for a human being.

"Don't you want to ask me any questions?"

"No"

"Wouldn't you like to know why I have created all of this?"

"No"

"Really, then? Aren't there any questions, any questions at all, for which you would like me to give the answer?"

"No", and strange as it may seem , God himself asked Sharp Words:

"Why not?"

"You say you have created all things. I worship all of them. The sun, the wind, the water, the fire, the earth, those are my gods. My spirit is touched by none other except these. I love them, my people loves them, always have, and they return our love with more love; giving us warmth when there is cold, giving us wind when it is hot, giving us water when we are thirsty, feeding the buffalo so that we can have clothes and food. I am very happy this way. So why do I want to worship a god that created all my gods? I thank you, but nothing more. I cannot wish you good things, either peace, love, health, plenty of food or prosperity, because you are a god, you don't need these things."

"True, I do not need any of them, but I love everything I have created."

"How is that possible? You say you don't need them, so you can't give them any sort of importance or value, for they simbolize nothing before yor eyes. You are indifferent. So why do you create things you don't need?"

"So that Man, my final creation, can prosper"

"And so you speak of me and my people, and all the others in the land, just like we speak of our dogs; and we are not your dogs"

"You are my children"

"We are not, because I just left my father and my mother in the tepee this morning. I am their child"

"Yes, because I have given you the power to love and procriate"

"Then why are you still here?", asked the indian. Beware, don't read these words as threatening, he was just thinking about all those things and asking back his doubts to God. Anyway, God vanished in the air. The indian fell asleep and when he woke up he thought it had been a dream.

Many years after this strange encounter, the white men were killing indians in order to gain control over the continent. Tribes were being slaughtered, women and children mutilated, and their bodies were frequently thrown into ditches, just like Nazis would do with the Jews in some years to come. Old Sharp Words was now the leader of his tribe. He consulted his elders and all the other people from the tribe, so he could take a decision, whether to chase the buffalo and face the white man in the future, or simply stay there and face the problem as soon as possible. They all decided that sooner was better. If they had to face the white man, it was better to do it now. One night, Sharp Words was alone by the fire, smoking his pipe. Once again, and out of the hot air, God appeared. He turned to the indian and said:

"Hello"

"Hello, god of all things"

"I come to warn you about the danger your people is facing. Tomorrow afternoon, men will come and try to kill you"

"We know"

"Don't you like the life you live? Doesn't your instinct tell you to survive?"

"I like my life, we all do. My instinct tells me many things, but I am not an animal. I am a man. Unlike animals, I can see. I know. I will stay here, for I have done nothing wrong, and we are willing to share the land if the white man comes in peace. Because the land is not ours, and that's why it gives all these good things to us. We love the land, we don't want to control it. We live in harmony. But I know things are not like this to the white man. He will wage war on my people."

"Yes"

"And he is always speaking of you, blessing his peers in your name. Many times during all those years, when I faced the white man, I heard things like 'in the name of God', or 'God bless you'...but still, they worship violence and they have hunger for control. They do what they do with your blessings, and in your name. That is why, even if it's not your fault that the white man uses your name in vain, we don't need you and won't share a god like you with the white man. We could never devote our lives to a god that allows the ones he calls his children to kill and spread terror on others, just because they are different. And you are not here. You don't exist, and you never have. Goodbye"

So the old man disappeared forever. No other person, indian or not, tribal leader or man of the church, ever saw him again. That night, a dance was organized, in honour of peace, chants for the battle they'd fight next day were sung, The following day, the white man came, quickly killing Sharp Words and all of his warriors, cutting their scalps (for mockery) and mutilating their bodies. When they saw the massacre, the indian women and children, who were hidden behind some trees and bushes on the nearby hills, came back running, to cry their dead. The soldiers then shot at them, leaving no one alive, and also mutilated them in horrible ways I won't describe here. Then they opened ditches and threw the bodies inside. They sealed that disgraceful dusty tomb and then gone away. The army had to rest, for there were still many tribes to destroy, still a lot of territory to build the future homes of the free, land of the brave. Well, the brave were dead.

The Apache people were the last major tribe to surrender to government control, back in the 1880s