Now, it was time to move on.
The man got up from the kitchen table, glancing at the TV to see that they were still talking about the death, but no more details were shown on the screen.It would take some time before they reported what had really happened, but he knew those investigating it would have figured out at least some of it by now.
He switched on the kettle, waited for it to boil, and then poured the hot water over the leaves in the teapot.He took the pot and a cup back to the kitchen table and placed them off to the side.He scanned the stacks of psychology books on the outer edge of the table, selecting one, and opening it to the page he had previously marked.
It was not only about removing those who posed a danger to society, but also about getting the message across so someone would finally listen.He had tried numerous other things over the years, but the more notoriety Alison Payne gained, the harder it was to knock her down from her ivory tower.It wasn’t enough to disagree with her; he had to show where she had gone wrong, and that meant being educated about it.
He had some knowledge, but there was so much more to learn, and things always changed as the years ticked by.He stuck his nose deep into the book as he absorbed the information.Sometime later, after losing track of the hours, he poured some tea and sipped it as he studied.
The man let out a loud breath, startling himself.He finally looked away from the book and up at the clock to see that it was well past midnight.He felt like an endurance athlete, losing track of time, but instead of physical exertion, he had mental strain.He moved his head from side to side to stretch his neck after being hunched over the book.
He had to be at work in the morning.Not early, but still early enough.His body wanted to go to bed and rest, but there were other things to do first.He picked up the teapot and tipped it toward the cup to find that he had drunk it all.The man shook his head.It didn't matter—he would go without.
He stood up and turned off the TV, which was now showing a late-night infomercial.He left the kitchen and went to his study.It was time to compose his second rebuttal.
He sat down at the desk, turned on the old computer, and waited for it to start up.Then, he opened the same writing program he had used on the last one.He put on his glasses and pulled out the file from the plastic tray to the left of the screen.He had corrected the report over the past couple of days, and he finally had all the information he needed to write his own.
He read the name across the top of the report that he had tried to fix with his red pen: Dr.Alison Payne.
He shook his head.The man could see what she had tried to do in the report, but it was flawed in so many ways.She didn't deserve to be lauded for what she had written; she should face derision.Perhaps they were already taking notice of the first report he had written, but he wouldn’t stop until Dr.Payne had been stricken off for the part she had played in everything.
The man felt a warmth inside as he typed.He knew his mission was flawed in some ways, and many wouldn’t understand what he was trying to do, but it had to be done.It was not only about protecting the world from Dr.Payne, but creating a complete overhaul of the system as a whole.There was far more harm than good that came from early release and parole, and all the other ways society tried to help criminals, instead of putting them where they belong.
He stopped briefly, taking a second to breathe and remind himself that he had to write from the head and not from the heart.
He looked to his left at the pictures on the wall.Thomas Warren looked back at him.A large red ‘X’ crossed the photo.Soon, all the photos would bear the same mark, a recognizable letter from the English alphabet that took on far more meaning because of what it denoted.
The man gently pried the next photo from the wall, leaving the tape behind.He looked the woman in the eyes.Perhaps it would be different this time.He had worried he would not be able to do it when it came to his first kill, but what about a woman?Being a learned man, he knew there should be no difference when it came to killing a man or a woman, but something told him there would be.
"It will soon be time," he told her."As soon as your report is ready, you will become a part of the message."
***
Jennifer Hayes was irritated.She had anger coursing through her veins as she sat at her office desk, finishing her work.Jennifer was annoyed that she had not gotten through all her work, and she knew that as soon as she finished what needed to be done for the day, there would be another mountain of work.It was never-ending.
The work was a curse and a blessing.
Jennifer knew that if she didn't focus on the work, her mind would turn to other things, less desirable ideas.
Or, more desirable ideas, depending on how one looked at it.
She knew, at least, that if she kept her mind busy with work that actually made a difference, not only to other people, but to her by doing the work, then she would stay in a better place.It was frustrating at times, but it was far better than the alternative.
So, she sat back for a moment and sighed to let out some of the emotion bubbling and festering within her, and then got back to work.
She found it ironic at times that she worked as an accountant on the side.She hadn’t gotten work in that field because of her past, with no companies willing to trust her after she had been jailed for embezzlement, but a friend of a friend had taken a chance on her.
It would be so easy for her to move some money around or fudge some numbers, but she wasn’t that person anymore, and the longer she went without messing up, the more she could convince herself.That was what mattered most.
She didn't find any relief in being trusted by the charity, the board that had given her an early release, or even the friends and family who had stuck by her when she was released from prison.She could only have true forgiveness from within, and that would come when she proved to herself that she wasn’t the same person anymore.
So, she remained in the office, working on the charitable accounts, knowing she could withdraw a modest sum with a couple of keystrokes and hide it well enough to never be caught.Not doing that was worth far more to her and her personal growth, so she resisted doing it, just as she had resisted every day since being released.
And through that, she understood how easy it was for the average person to commit a crime and then reoffend when they are released from prison.It was the road far more traveled, the familiar path, the ease of slipping into something that was comfortable.It was a drug within her.She felt it clawing at her heart and mind every day, trying to get her to slip.
She remembered hearing one time that an alcoholic was always an alcoholic, but they could still choose to never drink again.Jennifer found some solace in that.She knew that she would forever be a criminal, and she had to work every day not to act on it.
Jennifer finished entering the numbers into the spreadsheet and then clicked the print button.Her boss was also a volunteer, a woman in her eighties, and she liked a hard copy of all the spreadsheets.Jennifer opened her email, attached the document, filled out the fields, and sent it off.Then, she got up from her desk and walked through the empty office to the small print room, from where she could hear the printer doing its job.
