Why

A short story about a undercover journalist that want to know the truth about a murder.

Barnaby sat patiently as the reporter pronounced her story to the camera. He noticed how poised she was as she introduced him. She didn't look nervous nor frighten, but confident. It poured out of her soul like a waterfall of self-reliant which he found intriguing. Barnaby was awestricken by her phlegmatic manner that he almost missed his cue. Remembering to answer her question with a clear voice he sat up tall before responding:

"Once in a life time you will get the urge to kill someone. You won't know why because in your fragile state of mind, at this very moment, is telling you to do it. Since you usually listen to your thoughts that little voice will blend in as your everyday routine. Example: Grocery shopping, pick up dry cleaning, (kill your neighbor) mow the lawn. You see how easily it blends in? Without thinking clearly, you just nonchalantly added a deadly deed to your list of things to do. And since you planted that extra deed to your list it starts to grow into a parasite. It fester and nags at your insides. It finds anger and feeds off of that emotion. Anger becomes weak and let that deed take over. Now you're mad at your neighbor for reasons you couldn't possibly know. Maybe your neighbor forgot to bring back your hedge clippers. Maybe their trash keeps ending up in your garbage can, the list goes on. Now you thinking of ways to get rid of him. The thought of your neighbor leaves a dirty taste in your mouth. Then, when you see your neighbor, you plaster a porcelain smile and greet them as if nothing out of the ordinary is about to happen. You spot his wife and kids and instantly your heart melts. You're rethinking this whole ordeal until the deed finds jealously and takes over that emotion. Now you're jealous of him because he has a family and you don't. The deed strengthens the need for your neighbors blood shed until you can't fight it anymore, you have to do it. You go in your house contemplating your next move.  In your fragile mind you're going over the possibilities. Not once does your mind think about possible outcome after the deed is down. Prison, death penalty, life without parole, none of that flows through your mind at the moment. Its like the deed blocks that part until you've completed the task. It doesn't make you feel guilty about thinking such a thought. Actually, it makes you feel nervous. Not the kind of nervous you'll feel about a big test or in your case, an interview."  Barnaby paused when he saw the reporter fidgeted in her seat. It was a light movement, almost unnoticeable. In fact, Barnaby was 99 percent sure that he was the only one who caught the minute movement.    


"Do I make  you nervous?" questioned Barnaby with a smirk on his lips. His insides squealed with delight when he saw her faced melted into shock.

 "Not really," she squeaked. "Why would I be nervous?" she responded, clearing her voice. Her confidence returning to her demeanor but Barnaby was  beginning to get irritated. He hated when people masquerade their true emotions. Shoving the feeling of betrayal he studied her once more.

 "Well," he stared. "You're in Allan B. Polunsky Unit, one of the most dangerous psychological prisons in America, talking to me. You know what I did, how I did it, and  you know I'm on death row. You also know that even though I'm handcuff I can still be highly dangerous. And lastly, you observe in the beginning that only a table and that guard in the right corner of me stands in the way. However, I am completely harmless and you should have nothing to worry about." assured Barnaby with a warm smile across his face. He noticed that she didn't buy any of his nugatory speech. Instead she glanced at the guard who seemed to be bored. The guard was fiddling with his greasy fingers, probably picturing sitting down in front of a meal.

 "Can I ask you a question?" Barnaby asked startling the reporter. He figured she's not use to being asked the questions or just surprised that an inmate wanted to ask her something.

"I suppose you can." she hesitated. "Sure, go ahead."

"What exactly are you doing here?" he asked. "You're clearly not prepared for my answer, and usually a reporter wouldn't let me ask them a question. I've been here for fifteen years and not one act the way you've acted." He examined her closely.  "Who are you, really?"


The reporter gawked at him before squeaking out her come back. "I'm  Araminta  Styles from BBC News. I've flew from the United Kingdom to get a story of the most dangerous criminals in America." She noticed that the last part of her statement seemed confident, making herself feel relieved that the squeaking stopped. "I've just graduated from Oxford University with a Bachelors in Journalism and this is my first story so excuse me for being nervous." Barnaby didn't say anything. His face was blank and his eyes where clear. She couldn't read his expression or posture which made her nerves respond in an unmannered way.

"Thirty minutes!" bark the guard.

Araminta glanced at her watch before pulling out her note cards. She only had one question to ask him which he failed to answer. Deciding to repeat the question she hoped that he didn't break into a story again. Barnaby Wilco. Age: 45. In prison with a death penalty for murdering Steven, Jennet, and Bobby Morris. The family was found brutally disembodied by their daughter Macy Morris after coming home from piano practice. So my question is: Why did you do it?"

Barnaby smiled at the camera while smoothing his thinning hair. "Why? Why does the red fern grows? Why does the sun set and the moon appears. "Why do dogs chase cats? Why is the ocean blue but the river is brown. And most importantly, why do you have an American accent instead of a English accent?" Can you answer me that? "Why did I do it? Well," he started, "Because he didn't return my hedge clippers.

Reviews

[Mifa]

I have to say that this is one of my favorites among your herd of stories. I can't believe I actually laughed at the end of this. Please tell me, how do you come up with such stories? I think I am going to take a cue from you and basically pen down the twisted, darkest scenario that comes to mind and see where it goes.

It's a beautiful read and once again, you slayed it. By the way a little correction should go to the line "...waterfall of self-reliant". I think the 't' in 'reliant' should be replaced with a 'ce'. Good one though.

[Bluebird91]

You're turning into my favorite person lol.

[Mifa]

Aww... I'm deeply flattered. If only I have a psychopathic instinct to go with the appeal.

[DRAGO]

good, your missing ed on 30 minuts bark(ED) the gaurd

[Bluebird91]

Thank you for catching that ☺️ It really helps.

[DRAGO]

your welcome