This isn’t a confession, I’m not stupid, I know what I’ve done and I know there is no reason to show mercy to a man like me, but I still write on. I will give no details, my name to you will be John Smith, I live in My House, I work at The Police Department, and I travel at The Station. I’m writing this on a burner computer in a burner account, don’t try to find me, it’ll only waste time.
I’m writing this for two reasons.
For one, justification, when the day comes when I am caught this will sit here to defend my case, this will be my shining light, my one shot in the dark that maybe, I can attain salvation. Of course I don’t expect it to work, but even the idea of it is comforting to me.
And second, a relief, I can’t just have all this in me, someone has to know what I’ve done, I’ll have had to have told someone.
This story begins at My House, late one night, it must’ve been 10 or 11 PM at least, when I got a call from the department.
“John we need you in here, were short staffed to hell and we’ve caught some sicko on some shit, all we need is a confession and it’s a straight shot.” Said the husky voice of Jack Smith (again no real names of course) I sighed to myself, but I had nothing better to do, my wife and kids were all out, different excuses for why they needed to be gone so long, and dreaming was boring usually, childhood nightmares were a thing of the past, my dreams were in the abstract now.
My wife had the car of course, she always had the car when she was out late, so I had no choice but to take the train, I sighed to myself yet again and speed-walked down to the train station. It was empty as usual, I almost considered hopping the toll, but of course, I abided by the law I worked by so closely and payed with my card.
It was almost scary, if I was younger I would’ve been creeped out of my mind, a station completely empty, no one was even sleeping there, it was always terrifying when a place like a train station was empty, because there’s always someone else the crazies had to kill, so you would assume you were safe, but when the station was empty, you were the only target, and therefore the prime target.
The train arrived, and I got on, yet again no one was on board. Just me and the conductor I suppose, and so we drove together, down to the police station. I almost wished I was the conductor, what that was like to be up so late yet still have so much power, to control the lives of so many people in the night. It sounded beautiful.
I left quickly and hurried down to the station, but on my badge and gun, and walked in.
“Nice to see you John” Said the voice of some receptionist I didn’t know, she must’ve been new.
“Nice to see you too?” I said confused, sometimes people just pretend to know you, for what reason, I never know. I hurried over to Jack before anything could continue.
“So what’s the deal with this guy?” I asked, looking through the window at the culprit. He looked disturbingly normal, wearing cargo shorts and a blue polo shirt, tucked in even, just like some middle aged dad who on any other day would be playing Tennis or lecturing his kids on economic theory he believed so strongly about.
“It’s about as freaky as it gets, remember the train incident?” He said, I shuddered, it was a terrifying case for a while, a girl around 19 or 20 was standing late at night on the edge of the platform, some phsycho ran up to her and pushed her down, she couldn’t make it out nearly in time.
“So this is the guy who did it huh?” I said, a hatred filting over my eyes, the normalcy of his look was far more disturbing now.
“It took a hell of a lot of effort but he has no alibi for the night and his face just matched up with that mediocre camera footage.” Jack said, I nodded to him. I spent a few minutes studying his file a little bit before heading in. This man doesn’t deserve a name as simple as Jack Smith or John Smith, I’m going to call him Jackass, that’s a name that fits him.
“Jackass, aged 52, wife aged 49, two kids, a 15 year old boy named Jessi, and a 17 year old girl named Veronica, a nice house, 401k, stable job, and of course no criminal record.” I said, plopping a folder that was a little bigger than his actual folder down. He stared straight at me, his face twisted in some strange smug smile.
“That’s correct, you did you’re research didn’t you?” He said, smiling at me. His eyes from this angle almost twinkled, as if he was excited to be here.
“You know why your here don’t you?” I said, sitting down across from him.
“Actually no I don’t, explain it to me please?” He asked, that smug smile growing even stronger.
“You’re under interregation because we’re pretty sure your the guy who killed Melissa and her lovely baby.” I said, repressing most of my anger down as best I could.
“That’s me” He said, I sat there blank eyed, not even registering what he said, before finally the words washed over me and I stood up, my nerves shooting everywhere from the rage and confusion in the moment.
“So you admit it than, you did it?” I said, almost pleadingly.
“Yes, I did it, it was fun too, really fun.” He said, I wanted to punch him so bad, he wasn’t laughing like a madman, this wasn’t the mind of a nutjob who was dropped, this was the mind of an upperclass man who had every right and reason not to do evil, but liked it.
“And just why was it fun jackass?” I’ll admit, I wasn’t saying his name this time.
“Well think about it, look at how angry you are, how angry your friends are, think of that gir’ls grandparents, that girl’s friends, think of that mother’s family, that father, that father’s family, think about em for a second. Think about how much pain their all in, how much their lives are so infinitely changed, and why? Because of me.” He said, the smug smile growing stronger and stronger each second. “I am a god to them, the controller of all their lives, through one little twist of my steering wheel I turned a happy family into a terrifying tradgedy, I changed the world, little old me, me and my little life, I’m not so little now am I?” He said, his eyes darkening. I nearly punched him in the face, but of course he kept talking before I could.
“Now than, look at yourself, all mad, and your not just mad at me are you? You’re mad at everything, the world, the system, your home, your wife, your kids, your mad at them all, it’s builing on you isn’t it, building on you just like it built on me.” I thought back to my wife, I knew why she was home late, I just wouldn’t admit it. I knew why my kids were home late, I just would never admit it.
“That’s right, you know why I did it don’t you?” He said, I stared at him, my face a cocktail of emotion, before sighing for the third time that night.
“We have your confession recorded, you’re spending your life in jail asshole.” I said, my tone not convincing, he almost laughed at me as he watched me walk out. I walked up to Jack and stared at him for a second.
“Rough confession ey?” He said
“Yup, but I suppose it’s always worth it.” I replied, walking off quickly, I didn’t want to talk about this night again. This night was special.
Something changed in me as I walked out of the police station, a flame that had long died-out had re-lit, that evil man and his evil world had started a wildfire, and it would carry me to salvation. I was going to confront my wife, I was going to confront my children, I was going to quit this police job that had so long ruined my mind. And I knew that at that moment that even if I sat at the end of this month lonely, with weary children, I would be paving the way to something greater.
But something else raged in me, a deep, darker fire not within my heart, within my mind, a logic to battle the emotion, a deep anger to battle the hope. A knowledge that on the trainride home I would change my mind, on the trainride home I would decide it just wasn’t worth it anymore, that I should just keep going how I should, a knowledge that I will never change, because change requires too immediate of an action, and there is no immediacy when you have to wait for the train.
That’s when I saw Jess, standing by the edge of the tracks. He looked young, only 16 or 17. He was slim, tall, he looked like a grungy kid, and than the rage had a purpose, that deep anger at the abscence of anger had a direction, and than there was no stopping me as I walked up to him, my hood all the way up, covering me sufficiently.
“Hey” I said, not in control of my mouth, I think I’ll call myself it from now on, that’s what I was at that moment.
“H-hello” He said, a little weirded out.
“Your scared aren’t you?” it asked, knowingly.
“I suppose so, my mom will be pissed at me when I get home, and you’re not all comforting yourself.” He replied, it chuckled.
“Yeah yeah, well why are you so late?” it asked, smiling.
“Date night I suppose, I’ve been seeing the girl for a while and I guess we just got carried away.” He said, it stared judgingly at the kid “nothing happened of course, we just hung and smoked for a while I guess” he said, awkwardy.
“Well why would a teenage boy spend all night smoking with a girl and not try anything?” It asked, the boy hesitated for a moment, but he trusted it now, after all he’d never see it again.
“I dunno really, I think I just really like her, I’ve liked her for a while now, like her enough that a night smoking with her is enough to get me through a week, a month even.” He said, getting carried away in his voice.
“You sound like a good kid, what’s your name?” It asked.
“I’m Jess, what’s yours?” He replied, as the train came around the bend.
“I’m John Smith, pleased to meet you.” It said, and before the kid even realized what had happened, his head was already smashed into the train tracks, as the train could do nothing as he barrelled into the kid. Little bits of flesh raining down like snowflakes on the area around.
I hitched a ride home, not quite absorbing what I had done, and went to sleep.
This is why I’m writing this, not a confession, a relief of guilt on what I’ve done, so now all of you can know what I’ve done, and we can all the share the burden, so that my shoulders may not sag as low as they have.
But sometimes when I think about it I smile to myself, thinking about that poor train conductor, about that poor girlfriend who had struck up with a guy who actually like her, that poor mother and father, I think about how that little push changed so many lives. I think about that and I realize that I am powerful now, I am god.
Just as Jackass said, I’m not so little anymore.