Call Me Death

I dont understand . . ___

"It would be soft cloth, nice and warm. As if you were holding the clouds," Her eyes look of to the distance in deep thought, "My mother loved making dresses that made you feel like a goddess. On Sunday mornings when I wake up early the sun would shine through the large windows. White curtains blow covering the nice table arranged with fresh fruits and milk. Only time we ate outside in the morning to feel the warm sun. Echoes of the birds chirping flew around. Weeping willows arranged in lines outlined the trail to the tall black steel entry gate. Looking down across the long path I would not just see a gate, but a journey. A dream of what will come beyond. Don't get words twisted. The feeling may seem a wonder of what will become forward in my bright planned future," Her face turns forward with her eyes starting straight ahead. Eyes filled with anger and through gritted teeth, "But when I looked upon those gates I did not see happiness of beyond,for what I saw was" a tear rolled down from one of her water eyes," an escape." Starting straight ahead.
"Escape?"
"Let me tell you something Wilson, we are all mad. It's just that the ones that suppress it the most, are the worst ones of them all." No one can block her from her trance of starting straight ahead. Her eyes lost in space. Perhaps she was staring towards a dream. Perhaps a nightmare.
"Mad is nothing we all have. It's psychological."
"The heart can think whatever it wants, but not matter what it shall crumble. By love or death."
"So you accept that your crazy."
For the first time her eyes move swiftly, looking straight at him. Red eyes filled with water, "Insane is not what I will be called, a job is what it will stand for. It may not meet the laws of life, but damn right will I finish it."
"Job pursued by who..."
"Entered by your fellow man."
Wilson sits on the floor of the wall looking at death who sits upon her bed wrapped in chains. For nights Wilson has crossed the rules to secretly talk with death. Feeling if he talks with the insane he'll understand her reasoning, "Someone has been sending you to do the killing. A powerful man? Dealer?"
"Take my words as you wish, I don't care enough to scrabble them out for you."
"I'm here for the why."
"Whys and what's get men killed."
For the first time death wasn't playful, nor tricky. Her fine was straight forward. Somewhat annoyed by Wilson. Wilson stands up and says, "bye death," for the last time before the men come to retrieve her for her debt.
Walking down the long hallway Wilson try's to comprehend thinking of a psycho. Trying to understand how someone can kill for sport. Deaths quote , ' We are all mad. It's just that the ones that suppress it the most are the worst ones of them all ' plays like a song in his head as he walks towards the elevators. Feeling limited Wilson can't digest how someone can think beyond black and white. "There is yes and no. No in between," Wilson whispers. He holds his hands nervously shaking. How can Someone kill another? Feeling pure still. Play games? There is only good. No bad. We must be pure. No bad. There is no bad in this world. How can there. Tradition. Tradition is what we need. Man and women. A nice family. A simple home. Plain lives. Plain and simple. All thoughts must be plain and simple.
"Plain and simple, that's how it has to be. I can't think more. I can't," Wilson whispers going up the elevator. The lights of the elevator flicker. Wilson grips the bar of the wall feeling a bit dizzy.
I'm not mad. I'm not mad. I can't. I won't. Simple and plain. This world must be pure. Man and women. That's it. Nothing else. Just think of the case. Once the elevator opens Wilson walks out and walks down the hall finding the janitors closet. Locking the door Wilson shakes saying, "Focus on the case!" Outing his hands to his ears he shivers in horror. Closing his eyes he repeated, "I want to go home! Stop!" He takes deep breathes and tries to breathe again. Sulking to the ground Wilson births his head down in disgust.
Disgust and sadness of his abnormal thoughts. Disgusted of his own being. Begging and wishing how he could go back to his own self. To be normal. Before he wondered into the mind of death. All though what he didn't know was he hasn't even opened the door.

Wilson walks into Markowitz office as perfect as ever. "Markowitz I have to tell you something."
"I know you've been talking to death."
Surprised Wilson says, "How did you know?"
"I knew it from the beginning. I saw your curiosity. I let you go down there. Telling the guards to get a break."
"Why did you let me?"
"To have you practice being around the insane. To be able to talk with them. Understand them."
Wilson sighs while saying, "that's the hard part.... ," Wilson shakes his head, "But the reason I wanted to tell you is, because I got to know her. She told me everything. She's a real person with thoughts. She told me bits and pieces of her life. The only reason she kills is because I think some one forces her. Maybe a dealer? Maybe they have her parents or something and that's why she does all the killings!" Wilson says solving the case.
"We did a background check on her DNA and nothing appeared," Markowitz says in a serious tone after a pause.
"Powerful men these days can hack into anything!" Wilson walks up to Markowitz at his desk with encouragement, "She's innocent! Call the people who are taking her. Tell them she's innocent! She doesn't have to be hanged," Wilson smiles proud that he solved the case.
Markowitz stares at Wilson. After a while he says, "Wilson, no matter what she did commit the crimes. She must be attended to."
Shocked Wilson says, "What? Those men did it not her. She doesn't have to die!" Wilson says.
"Wilson," Markowitz says to calm him down, "Empathy is getting in the way of your job. She may seem as if a person, but you have to remember her name. Every time you see her you have to see the skull. Not the girl she might be."- " Markowitz I need to talk to you." A women with a black low bun and wearing a suit says at the door of Markowitz office.
Markowitz looks to Wilson, "Now go take a break. I have to do some work."
After Wilson leaves the detective shows Markowitz some paper work. The detective says, "He has hope for her doesn't he."
Markowitz sighs looking at Wilson leaving, "He believes her."
"He doesn't see her as the soulless death she is playing."
"He can. He just can't comprehend it. A girl with this mind."
"He chooses not to see her as death, but a person."
Markowitz looks straight ahead, "That's what I'm afraid of."