Dreadful Laughter part IV [James]

the night my family died. that night I lose a part of my soul. later the cops came to interrogate me. it was a whole circus.

I can see it on the morning news "last minute the 'horned' salary-man takes revenge..." I don't feel proud nor displeasure of been awkwardly put as a mastermind/ villain. I just feel odd and it all feels out of place.

why do people have to see me on such a negative light. I am the victim of my own story. and jet someone comes to mock me. what or how am I suppose to respond to all the bullshit circus that comes wherever I go.

the worst part is that when the cops were questioning me. they came with a question that felt like a stab on the wound. they asked me if I killed them because my son wasn't my actual son. I almost died of a heart attack then. I went to the hospital dying.

the cops don't seem to question my innocence any longer. jet there is the wound of knowing that my little Jimmy wasn't mine. but even so I still loved him the same.

to know that until the last minute that bitch keeps hurting me, truly shows how much she hated me, or better said how little she cared about me.

that is not all. the worse part is that Ted Dahmer, the other man. he has been coming to my home putting on an act. I feel the need to do something. but for respect to my Jimmy I had let that man do whatever he wants to do.

I feel like at some point I will regret this really deeply. but however. what matters is to point out how heartbroken I am at the funeral. how I can barely keep appearances. I am not even there, present. my mind is somewhere else thinking about the 'IF.'

I am to blame for my misfortune. I didn't act on time. I was too much of a coward to do anything that night. I am still thinking what if it is all just an elaborate and extremely cruel nightmare. there has to be a way out of the Circus of Social Abnormalities.

there has to be a limit to how much they can harass me. how far can they go with their story about my own personal tragedy. but like always there are no limits to them. there is no personal life for those on the spotlight of an intriguing tragedy.

I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to break. I want to destroy. I want to cease to be. I want to hug. I want to feel. I want to be cure from all the madness and poison on the inside of a heart that use to be free of all that darkness.

Ted Dahmer has become like a shadow. it is clear that he blames me. that he wants to see me on his twisted mind as the villain of this tale. maybe he is the hero of his own fable like happens on most human's heads.

I refuse to talk to him. I refuse to listen to his madness. to deal with my own madness is enough trouble for one person. I don't need to know more about him. all I want is to forget everything and all. I want to forget that the world exist and is real.

I have doubts about my own integrity as a human every once in a while. there are times on which I question my life choices. there are moments on which I asked myself if I am not actually a secret villain, or if my story isn't a villain's backstory.

there are times in which I believed to be the monster that everyone else sees on me. I want to be that hideous creature of which I am accuse of been. I want to give up to the darkness and let the madness lead my life. but I am still here dealing with the pain.

it turns out that I am not sure any more if I am good at all or if I pretend to be. maybe I am actually cruel and disgraceful deep inside on my heart. and everything good about me is just a facet or an act that I create to hide the ugliness staining my soul.

sometimes I think that maybe the story of my life was a tragic play written by Shakespeare or by Poe. or even by some unknown washed-up Author.

I should admit that the pain neutralizes many of my human functions. jet I am not worthy of earning enough pity for others to leave me alone. I am the new something. everyone wants to know about my private life.

nothing belongs to me. I am not even the owner of my tears. I am judged and questioned if I cry or if I don't cry on the right time. everything has to be perfect even my pain so it can be credible enough to others.

there are times in which I asked myself why haven't I talked about the actual killer, or why I didn't just let them end me there. it would had been so much more easier if I had died with my family. maybe I could had earned enough respect on that way.

the world is so full of bullshit and I take part on that. but once more I had to emphasize how annoyingly scary has become the way Ted Dahmer has become my shadow. this days he follows my every movement expecting to find anything suspicious about me.

when I am not follow I visit Ted's home. I talk to his wife. it feels better to have someone to who confess your inner issues. she has become some sort of a friend. she is a person who knows mostly everything about me.

it is strange to said it like that. but I don't have anyone else to listen to my cries. there is not a single soul capable of understanding the dilemma of my tragedy. even if I may had hated her at first. now she is a friend, someone to who I can confess my sorrows.

some people may see something else in our relationship. but to be honest. I had such a bitter experience with my former wife. that right now I get emotionally drained every time someone brings the subject about 'Love.'

I can't even listen to songs that are about the wonders of love. the other time I burned some of my all time favorite romance novels. I even hate watching films.

even the word 'Sex' or 'Lust' bring out the rage sleeping on me. there was one time in which I was kicked out of a bar. I had a fight with multiple individuals after one of them mentioned something about 'Lust.' I kindly told him to shut the hell up.

you may had guess that I ended up with some bruises, some broken bones, and a bloody nose and mouth. the physical pain was nothing in comparison to the internal emotional damage. damn just thinking about that is making my heart hurt.

where was I? oh yeah. I was narrating about my circumstances with Ted's family. yeah somehow they had become another family to me. or better jet a replacement for the family that I lose. I have to say that the daughter seems to dislike me.

the daughter looks at me strangely. she is probably aware of everything and she may see me on a negative light. maybe I am the bad guy on her eyes.

I am a victim of a badly written book. I am a twisted metaphor of a fable. I am the Big Bad Wolf of the fairy-tale. I am a side character of the tale of my own story. I am nothing to everyone else. and when I am something, it has to be something evil or cruel.

the word sympathy doesn't fit on the lips of others when I am the object of the most mundane conversation. I am just a vulgar joke on the end of each conversation. I am nothing of worth to those around of me.

the disgrace has to be the chastisement of my stupidity. if we talk about sins, the stupidity is one of them. because there is no crime as small or as sinful as the stupidity. I am a victim of no other than myself.

in this world the truth has no power. what becomes the truth is what others believe to be it and nothing else. the actual truth eventually becomes a myth. my story is nothing but a lie to the world. there is nothing to do about it.

it has been two weeks since the funeral. I had spent days of agony. for a while I didn't hear anything more about Ted. out of nowhere one day he appeared in the front door. he was knocking the door. he was holding a pecan pie.

I opened the door. he got inside. we go to the dinning room. we are eating the pie. Ted took a gun out. he aims at my face. he then asked me to make a confession. he puts his phone on the table. he wants to record my voice.

I am confuse. I wanted to leave behind the actions that he committed with my wife. I wanted to forget about their relationship. I was hoping to move on with my life. there are many things that I wanted. but here we are.

I want to laugh. I want to do many things. I start talking about that night. I enter in detail about how that night I survived as a coward. how I just was witness of Samantha's death on the hands of a payed killer.

sadly that wasn't what he wanted. he accused me of lying. he shoots at my right arm. he warns me that if I don't tell him the 'truth' he wants I will die. he starts talking about his relationship with my wife. he enters into detail about their future plans.

"I can't believe that you refuse to accept your crime till the bitter end. I will make sure that you pay for your actions."

"there is no crime to confess. it wasn't me. I wasn't the one who killed them."

"the worse part is not that you get away with murder. but that you have the nerve to paint yourself as a victim. there is no victim that I see in front of me. you are the only culprit. you are the only criminal in here."

"who are you to change our story on such way that it justifies your repugnant ass on a positive way."

"don't put the blame on me. it was you who wasn't man enough for your wife. it was you who couldn't tolerate your lack of manhood and desired to kill her when you knew that you couldn't keep her to yourself."

I push the table on top of him. he falls on the floor. I run away. I leave my house and I just run without looking back. that sick man wants to hurt me. I don't know where to go. I don't know who to ask for help.

there is urgency written on the situation on which I find myself. he is following me. he starts to shoot at me. I don't know what to do. I always took the right choice. I always acted on a righteous way. had I been wrong all this time?

there are many things that come to my mind as I feel my life in danger. I question my morality and righteousness. I am starting to think that maybe he is right. maybe I am the bad guy and I didn't know until now.

I feel like I am two steps away from a mental breakdown. there is rage on my heart. maybe taking revenge isn't such a bad thing. maybe this is my opportunity to hurt those who had hurt me on the past.

I start to laugh like a maniac. then out of nowhere I feel an immense pain on my face. I fall on the floor bleeding from my face. what happened was simple. I was assaulted with a bat by Ted.

I drag myself on the ground. I crawl unable to see what is in front of me. I am aware that there is no way out. there is no exit from this one.

I curse my life for the false steps I had taken. I feel victimize by life's unexpected twists. there is no easy explanation to what is going on inside of my heart. there is no simple answer to how fuck up is my situation.

damn be my fortune of finding myself on such a tragic chapter of my fable. there is no forgiveness for those who are naive enough to think that it is over. just one second of false sense of safety and the next moment you are bleeding on the ground.

who am I to blame the universe or the world. who am I to blame life or luck. I just say what is happening just on the way that is happening. there is no good fortune to me. there is no justice to me.

I curse you life. I curse you for not been honorable. I curse the world for not giving me an opportunity for a happy ending. I demand an explanation for all the suffering.

there are many things that are wrong about my life. for once I truly believed that there was a light after the storm. what a fool I am.

now as I lose consciousness a sick soul is dragging me inside of a car. I am been taken without my consent to some hidden place. somewhere on the darkness for me to suffer some more with no salvation.