The Mistake | Colby Brock

Chapter Sixty Five- Grim Reaper

idk if i'm overthinking or is my writing kinda off rn? i'm trying guys i am bare w me. love you. and stay safe please.
Jordan's pov
'Shock therapy' they said. 'It'll help,' they repeated. What they didn't tell me is that it wouldn't help me. It would help them. And i believed them for a second, but four and a half months it can do something to you. I counted every second, every hour, every day, every shock of it. And each time, i little piece of me disappeared. I keep reminding myself who i am. Who my family was, and why i'm here. But i've forgotten some things, and the harder i try to remember the more frustrated and hurt i get. The one thing i keep telling myself over and over is to not forget my life. Who i was before i came back, but also what happened when i left. Sometimes i think Colby part of the reason why i let myself let go. Why i lost myself again. And i hate myself for putting my dead weight into someone's full of life hands. All i did was drag him down, and it didn't take long for him to find out. Yesterday was supposed to be my last therapy session, let's just say i absolutely hate anything that gives off any sort of electrical pain now. Any sort of electrical shock scares the living hell out of me. It hurts much more than you can imagine. I barley keep my eyes open on the hard bed that's drenched in my sweat and tears. "She's been on it for too long," i hear someone say. I can feel the warmth of their breath shadow over me, but it sounds like they're miles away, a whisper. "Then restart," the voice that nags my brain speaks. I grip my hands into fists as my restraints get tighter, and the countdown starts. It goes from five, to four, and i hear metal clanking. Three, they repeat as the notches get turned up on the machine. Two echos across the wall, my brain pounding. One is bland, and emotionless. The two pieces of metal burn into my temples in milliseconds, shaking me in pain. I scream out muffled from the cover over my mouth. I cry, as i count the seconds. The only thing that can keeps me somewhat distracted from everything. Once they stopped, my body still jolted, but the metal was removed from me. "29 seconds she was in," someone spoke next to me, i look near there and tap on the bed shakily to get her attention. "30." I correct her, my throat dry and raspy. She looks at me weirdly before looking back at her stopwatch. "It was 29.7, sorry i should've rounded up." She apologized before scrambling on her notepad. I nod and let myself drift into sleep, my body giving up on me. It wasn't long when i woke up to a loud, cranking door opening. I jump up, my body instantly regretting it as pain shot throughout me. I'm still laying down, but now i'm in my loose fitted gear. The ones for missions. I roll my eyes, not speaking though, i wasn't in the mood for any 'treatments' or more honestly, punishments. I'm helped up by some nurses and taken to David's office. I plop down in a seat and fix myself, my body zinging like a fallen asleep leg, only it's all of me. But i push through it, it's better than getting in trouble for not trying. I'm handed my black clothed mask, almost like a nurses one, but made with thick fabric and styled with small rhinestones. It was cute, but odd in a way i couldn't describe. A big camera is lowered and adjusted to my height as it zoomed in and out to only get my shoulders and up. "You remember what we rehearsed?" David asks as he preps the camera. I nod quickly in slight fear for my life. Last time i had to get 'therapy' wasn't for an actual reason. It was because i couldn't remember my fucking lines i was forced to say. I had plenty of time to remember while i was being electrocuted senseless though. I reach up to rub my dry eyes from old tears. I haven't seen a mirror in months, yet i know already that my eye bags are darker than the night sky. I probably look like a raccoon and wouldn't be surprised if i did. I hear the countdown on a clock, it ticks by the second, and i throw my hair up before it hits one. And when it does, my hood goes on, and i speak. "Hello, you're probably wondering why you're getting this message that might've interrupted your day to day plans. Or who this is from, my apologies. This is a program automatically connected to go to your tv and cable company. How? You may be asking, well it's quite simple when you're all connected by the A.P.P. in some way, gifted ones. Now, let me start off by introducing myself, properly. I am The Reaper. More specifically we are The Reaper. We are an organization, a group of civilians you can see in your everyday life and not know if they work with us. I know who you are, i know where you live, your phone numbers, emails, cable company, even your most recent online purchases. All online for someone's access, it just takes the right person to get it. Now, before you go a little wild, know that this is NOT a public message, it is going to be designed to be only seen by the gifted eye. So, be grateful you're getting this, for you never know who's next. We only kill who's necessary, the people that owe debts to certain people. The people that don't get caught with murder, the people that sex traffic, etc. We can and will see all. You should be thanking us for our work. Not trying to track us down." I inhale, catching my breath before turning my gaze slightly to David's, he urges me on, so i keep going. I swallow the lump growing in my throat and exhale, looking back at the camera. "By the time this video is released, there will be another death just miles away from you. This will be a seventy-five year old male that got away with sex trafficking, and raping children, all under the age of sixteen. Thank us, and thank you for your cooperation. Until next time, Reaper." I stand from my seat, and get handed an unloaded gun by David, and i fake shoot off the lens. We go black then clapping is heard around us. They wouldn't hand me a real gun, nor would they let me shoot the camera, so it'll be edited before it's sent out. And yes, the person is already dead. The work was done last night, and no one is friends with this terrible excuse of a human, no family either. So his death isn't even known yet, by anyone. I'm not saying any of this is right, they're first going to have me kill actual bad people, before my own. And i was dreading it, i felt like i was betraying my own kind. But the question was, how will they react to this first sudden death? Will they praise us/me? Or will they want us to perish, and leave the dirty work to the 'professionals?' And, will they catch on after i stop killing actual predators.