Page 1 of Sinful Justice

JUSTICE

Most might consider taking a man’s life—no matter your reasons for doing so, or the crimes that man committed—an unlawful practice.

Many would call it murder.

Others may call it justice.

I’ve decided, at this point in my life, it’s a necessary evil.

I never set out to become this person, and I never meant for things to get so out of hand, but when the law refuses to holdallof its citizens to the same standards, and in doing so, consistently subjects innocents to be the victims of destruction and depravity, then what is someone to do but restore justice themselves?

It’s October 12th, and nighttime darkness shrouds me like a cloak. The springlike warmth, even in the midst of a chilly fall, hugs me while I crouch in a dark corner of a filthy alleyway behind a seedy bar in one of New York City’s grungier boroughs.

There was a storm earlier today, leaving the sidewalks wet and the strange humidity sticking to my skin.

Even the seasons know change is upon us. The world isn’t in balance; not with a guy like Preston James walking free, untouched by the law and unapologetic for the pain he bestowed upon thirteen-year-old Bella Thompson.

He destroyed her spirit long before he ended her life. And now… I get to return the favor.

Music from the bar backing on to my alleyway thuds through the double brick façade, and the ruckus made by the dirty assholes inside keeps me hidden, just two feet from the entrance.

That’s how close I am to whomever walks by.

But I’m not a regular killer who gets off on ending any random person’s life. No. I’m waiting for Preston. I’m waiting to avenge a little girl’s pain and suffering.

And when it’s all said and done, I expect to be immune to the punishment of the law, as James is.

He destroyed her; he admitted it. The cops have proof of his crimes, but James has a judge in his pocket and enough money to get away with whatever he pleases.

Luckily for Bella and those like her, I’m not for sale, and my moral compass won’t be swayed by peer pressure, kickbacks, or a promotion to the position of police chief.

Bella is already dead, and soon, her family will say their goodbyes and place her in the ground. The judicial system has already forgotten her, and those who were meant to save her, long ago wiped their hands clean of the case that takes up a significant portion of the morning news.

The smart thing for me to do would be to go home and sleep off my rage. It’s not too late for me to turn back, to make different choices. Because even if I think killing Preston is warranted, the label I wear after today won’t change.

Is murder acceptable, when it’s committed against another murderer?

Who knows.

But as the door of the bar opens and colorful lights illuminate the sidewalk six feet from where I crouch, my adrenaline kicks into high gear and makes up my mind for me.

Change is upon us.

I intend to make the most of it.

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