Chapter 2: Regrets

September 21^st, 2013:

 I took a sick day from work today. I couldn’t bear to go back to that hellhole. Not after last night. I couldn’t sleep at all. I tricked him. He was just a simple man, looking for a nice hot meal. No. No! He was a ruthless killer who ended the lives of others for personal gain. But that personal gain was no more than a hot meal and a good shower, something that everyone deserves and nobody would give to him. I am empathizing to much with this horrible person! Such is the nature of my terrible job. I am beginning to think that my career may have to end, for the benefit of my own psychiatric health. This is what I hate about my job, and I fear that my overactive imagination, the thing that allows me to empathize with and dissect the thoughts of killers, may be my downfall. Nightmarish visions haunt my dreams and days alike. I fear that I may be reaching the breaking point. This guilt! This horrible guilt! I cannot shake my mind from these visions, the visions of Nick’s body, hanging from a noose. The visions of him sitting in the electric chair, convulsing, and of his limp, unmoving body. Truly, I am haunted by my own imagination, coupled with immense regret over what I have done. Even in the midst of this, I can sense that I am subconsciously psychoanalyzing myself, and the results are not what I want to find.

Author's Note

Please read Exposition and Simple Pleasures first. Thanks!

Reviews

[Kristin Lee]

Very strong prose. I like where your mind is going. The idea that this guy is having a hard time staying in the present...

On one typo that I noticed: "I am empathizing to much" in this context the word "to" should be, "too."

Other than that everything looks sound. Keep up the great work!