Retribution: The Cure for Agony

Chapter 4: Guilty

Once I got home I noticed my front door was still unlocked. I paused after opening it and reached in to turn on the light. I was unperturbed as there was nothing of true value I couldn't live without. Hell, if someone was in here, after all that's taken place within the last hour, they could kill me and I'd gladly go without a fight. However, I needed to muddle through this feeling and live just a while longer.

I turned off the dining room light and shuffled further into the house. Before making it to the unlit hallway, a cool blast of air hit my face as I passed underneath a vent, sending a shiver through my entire body. I pulled the sleeves of my hoodie down, wrapping my hands, and crossed my arms.

I glanced into the shadowy living room and kitchen. The blankets on the couch were unmoved; even the stack of mail and medication on the kitchen table was as I left it. I took a deep breath and before I could walk away to check the rest of the rooms, I caught something run across the patio in my peripheral vision. I spun around to look through the back door.

There was nothing there.

I sighed. "God, I could have swore I saw someone in the back yard."

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. The thought of what happened earlier in the bathroom lingered, and I couldn't help but feel drained.

Just find the positive side of things, come on... If anything, I should realize how good things are going, even if my mind is fucking with me.

I just... I still couldn't believe how breathtaking it was when you got out so early, Daniel. On the bright side it fast tracked the opportunity for me stare into your lifeless eyes. God... Just the thought of watching your chest expand one last time as your corpse struggled to inhale another breath was enough to make me ecstatic.

My animosity for you was so resilient that nothing would ever convince me to sway from the path I had set for myself. I looked forward to the day your blood flowed onto the floor as it drained from your frail figure, debilitated from the torment I put you through. It'll be me, Daniel. It'd be my austere hands that sent you to the afterlife rather than some jurors' sense of morality.

A callous laugh escaped my mouth as I finished checking the rest of the house, making me feel slightly better about the situation. If I could be utterly honest here, I knew there was nothing moral about killing another individual regardless of what they have done to you. Sometimes the weight of what had been done can be too much; only some of us could carry the burden of ending a life, though we'd still contemplate whether our reasons were truly valid. I've noticed it's easier when you don't know anything about them. Even their name could make you ceaselessly wonder what they would have become if you didn't cause them to have a premature death.

Yes, I suppose it would have been nice to know you were still rotting in a prison cell, possibly being used as someone's sex doll. Yet they failed to keep you there and even though you may not truly deserve to die, killing you wouldn't affect my ability to move on with my life. If anything, it would make it better.

There have been days I thought about repaying everything you did to me upon your entire family, but I knew I could be a little more inventive. My emotions wouldn't be a factor in deciding how I killed you or your wife because it would be a crime of passion. It needed to be premeditated and fitting for the wrongs you've committed.

Pondering some fresh ideas, I laid down in bed—ready for some sleep—but finding the will to calm the thoughts rampaging through my head had always been the part that gave me the greatest difficulty. Instead of thinking, I tried to focus on the sound of my fan spinning. It only took a couple minutes for my body to relax and I drifted off.