Inside the Mind of a Serial Killer

Chapter Two

The whole night,  I sat on my bed,  listening to the voices discriminate and hate me for the mere thought of turning myself in. The night was quiet; no one even drove into the motel parking lot. But it's around 5 A.M. now,  and I need to get going. I step into the bathroom,  and I turn on the shower water.

Why would you even begin to think to turn yourself in? Are you just that stupid?

Is it possibly because you could actually get some sexual action at a prison? You're turning to male convicts now for pleasure?

Is it because your sanity is running thin? That we're making you turn to these types of solutions? Or is it because we made you shed innocent people’s blood on Earth's soil?

You know seeing all that blood,  all of the horror now stuck on those victims' faces were satisfying. They were quite a pleasure to see,  I would think.

“Just shut up,  all of you,” I say. “For once in my life I would like to take a peaceful and quiet shower.”

Well,  maybe the thoughts of all of the sex you had with those prostitutes before you slaughtered them should do the trick.

No, the thoughts of his childhood before his parents were killed should help.  All the pain and misery your mother and father brought onto you for mistakes, they are the most pleasing of them all.

Or we could plot another murder.  At a truck stop or possibly another motel tonight. They should be easy.

“No,  I don't want to think about any of that. I just,  I want to think of happy memories.  If you would just please stay silent for five minutes,” I say. After that, they don't say a word. I sigh as I undress,  and I step into the cold water. I keep a hand on the wall,  the other running through my hair as I close my eyes.

*   *   *

It's graduation,  2009. We all stand in line, waiting for our name to be called to get our diploma. My girlfriend, who I had proposed to the night before,  stands in front of me. She's absolutely beautiful, even if I can't see her face.

I can see she's shaking, nervousness and excitement and anxiety coursing through her body. I take a step forward,  and I wrap my arms around her waist. I kiss the crook of her neck,  smelling roses from her perfume. The one she wore on special occasions.

“I can't wait,” I hear her say. I smile against the warmth of her skin.

“I can't either,” I say. “We're finally graduating.”

“And we're engaged. I couldn't be anymore anxious and excited in my life,” she says. I move her long brown hair,  and I kiss her cheek.

“I couldn't be either baby,” I say.

“Emilia Brown,” we hear the announcer (our principal at the time)  call out. I let go of Emilia, and she climbs up the steps onto the stage. I watch her as she shakes his hand,  and walks off stage with her diploma.

I wait for what seems like hours for my name to be called.  Once I hear James Townsend,  I walk up on stage,  and I shake the principal's hand. I look into the crowd,  but what was I expecting to see?  I had no family to cheer me on. I had no one but Emilia to call family. And hopefully,  we can start a family.

I walk off stage,  the expected disappointment settling in my stomach. I see Emilia run up to me,  and she tackles me in a hug. I hug her back,  burying my face in her hair. The smell of peaches and cream from her shampoo calm me. The disappointment disappears.