A prisoner on death row. A psychologist sent to evaluate the killer.
Who is at fault? The prisoner? Or the life they had and the troubles they went through? Our world is corrupt and we're only getting worse.
Warning: Dark themes are mentioned, but t...
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"Why would you say that?" Harold said, taken aback slightly. "That's the second time you've said that. Claimed that you are a villain"
"Isn't it your job to discover the why?" Calandra challenged, tipping her chin slightly. "But, I suppose, in the spirit of our little "partnership" to appease the higher-ups, I'll tell you. I am not the hero of this story. I am not a flat character used only once or twice; I'm the antagonist. I'm the bad guy, the antihero, the villain. I am a complex character and I have done far too many awful things in my life to be a hero, my dear."
His brows drew together in a deep frown. "This story?" He echoed. "Please do explain."
"The story of life," Calandra replied. "In a sense, each and every person in this world is a character in a long-standing story. There are plenty of heroes, like Noah, Harriet Tubman, Albert Einstein, Marie Curie, Sacagawea, and so many, many more. Then there are the villains like Adolf Hitler, Julius Cesar, Charles Manson, King Henry VIII, Christopher Columbus, Stalin, and others. There are the famous good guys and bad guys like them and then there are the unsung heroes and the quiet villains."
"And you consider yourself to be a quiet villain?" Harold surmised. It was an interesting way of thinking, but it made sense, he supposed. It wasn't a thought process he had come across before, though.
"Correct," Calandra stated. "I didn't choose to be a villain, but that's who I am. It's who I've grown into. Maybe I was born to be this way, maybe it's the result of situations in my life, or maybe it's because of my own choices along the way. Perhaps a combination of all them. Either way, I am a villain and there is no way to change this."
"Surely there is," Harold opposed. As he silently jotted down a note on his papers, he realized why she thought this. Her parents had told her that she was destined to be a cleaner and nothing could change that. Calandra grew to believe that she was destined to be a villain and nothing could change that. Harold felt a twinge of anger towards her parents who seemingly set her up to fail, but he knew that this wasn't something that they could be blamed for.
Calandra shrugged. "Perhaps. I doubt it. I highly doubt it."
"How come?" Harold asked. He was careful not to use the word 'why.' She seemed to be a bit put off by him asking her why.
"I don't want to talk about this," She replied curtly. Calandra shut his questions down promptly and that appeared to be the end of the discussion.
Calandra liked the way it felt to be in control of the conversations and questions. However, she knew it was only because Harold allowed her to take control so he could learn more from her. She didn't care that he was picking her brain apart and trying his best to analyze her, Harold noted. It was a pleasant surprise, really. Many of the people he had analyzed were standoffish and on guard for a long period of time before finally opening up. Harold assumed that the difference between people like that and Calandra was her attitude. She was resigned. She didn't care. Death held no sway over Calandra. She welcomed it. What were a few questions before she left?
