I'm Going to Kill You

I'm going to kill you.1

Yes, that's right. I'm going to kill you. I'm sure out of all the things you expected to hear today, that was the very last one on your list, wasn't it? That's how it is for everyone, even for the souls rotting on death row. They know, as well as you do, that it's coming; what they don't know is when. And like you, they bide their time, keeping themselves busy in order to take their minds off of their impending judgement. The only difference is that you work a job, and they see how long it takes for claustrophobia to set in before trying to slit their wrists with the spoon from last night's dinner.2

Anyway, like I was saying before. I'm sure you didn't expect to hear that today; and really, who does? I'm sure you are feeling scared or at least apprehensive, but, honestly, you should feel blessed. So many people don't get a chance to hear of their impending doom; no, they are usually caught completely off guard, most often at the most inconveinient of times. Look at that guy from just the other day: twenty-four years old, excellent condition, ran marathons, then suddenly gets sideswiped at an intersection! That just goes to show that you never really know when that grain of sand is going to fall into the bottom of your hourglass. That's why you see these motivational posters everywhere now, telling you to take risks, and songs on the radio talking about the importance of living like you were dying, and carpe diem and all that. Hmm...3

You know if I was talking to anyone else, the first thing I would have said would be to warn them not to scream or attract attention to themselves in any kind of hope of rescue. But I didn't say that to you, and you know, just as well as I do, why: because you are, by all standards, hopeless. Even now, your silence is a reflection of your life: quiet, unnoticed, simply blending into the background. You have lived a boring unaccomplished life, a life that can go so far as to be described as miserable. And that is exactly why I'm going to kill you: to put you out of your misery.4

You look surprised. Yes, I supposed that's okay, I mean, it's understandable. You thought today would be like every other day: you would wake up, get dressed, examine the sidewalk with your coat collar up as you walked down here, and just sit here eating-what is that?-bacon and eggs, keeping to yourself, staring at the table in front of you; and suddenly I arrive! I mean, what did you think? Did you not see me from all the way over there, directly in your line of sight the few times you looked up? I know you had to have noticed me looking at you. What do you think now? Did it not occur to you that while the bell rings in the evening, it can just as well toll in the morning?5

Eh-6

What?7

What-what are you saying?8

Money? 9

Are you really offering me money in exchange for your life?10

Legal tender cannot save you now; it cannot save anyone from what I've placed in front of you. Sure, I could take it and kill you anyway; what's to stop me? I won't do that, of course, because your pocketchange is of no use to me whatsoever. So, please, put your wallet away...you're embarassing yourself.11

But really, you see, that is the problem with humanity. Everyone believes that all the problems of the world can be solved with money. Hell, sometimes the problem is a lack of money itself. There's not enough money to buy the food to feed the world. Not enough money to research cures or afford treatment for the most dehabiliting of diseases. No money for schoolbooks and up-to-date advances in education means little Jimmy is going to spend the rest of his life washing dishes in an unkempt kitchen. Hard-working men and women break their backs at a job they hate to deposit their checks and build their account to fund that dream retirement somewhere in the rural countryside, only to find that some criminal can dig through a garbage can, grab a credit card bill, hack into that very same account and take every last cent. Oh sure, there are special security tactics employed to make sure this can't happen, but just as disease figures out how to beat the antibiotic and bugs thwart insecticides, evil will find a way to immune itself and slip around security precautions. Just like-12

Hey.13

Are you even listening to me? 14

No, no you're not. I can tell by the hollow stare of your eyes that my voice is flying straight through your ears. You must still be stuck on my first five words. Yes, I can actually almost see them rolling around in your head while your eyes envision my mouth repeating them over and over again. I could...heh, yeah, I could probably say anything to you right now and you would never hear it. 15

Hmm.16

No, I won't. I have a point to make here, and as much as I'd like to tell you that the moon landing video was fake and was shot on the same soundstage as I Love Lucy, I know I really shouldn't.17

Oh, do I have your attention again?18

What?19

Never mind what I said.20

It's not important, not relevant.21

Just listen to what I'm saying now. I don't think I need to remind you that this is the last conversation you will ever hear. Yes, of course, I still mean to kill you. I've only been here for a few minutes; do you think my mind has changed already? Ah, I digress. I should get back to my whole point for being here.22

Now, I've thought about this for some time, primarily because it is just not me, not who I am, to make decisions hastily. And even after long consideration, I still don't see any reason not to do it. I mean, look at your life. You work in one of hundreds of cubicles in some corporation where not even the guy next to you knows your name. You work until non-stop until lunch, where you don't even bother to leave your desk; you just reach for the sandwich in your bag and a thermos to wash it down with, and return right back to whatever you were doing. In fact, the only time you leave is when you clock out to go home. And speaking of which, your home life is about as eventful as your job. You go in, eat again, read the paper, sit on your couch, drag a box out from under the seat, sift through it for as much time as necessary, replace it, take a shower, and go to bed. Every day you do this. Lather, rinse, repeat. No friends call; no girlfriend or wife clings to you in the dead of night; you don't even have a goldfish! You wake up to the morning's light, but it only illuminates the past where you walk, and shrouds the prospect of events to come. 23

-24

It's because of your mother, isn't it _______? Believe it or not, I'm sorry for your loss. I always hate to see bad things happen to good people, to see the innocent suffer, and if I could have stopped it, I would have. She was thirty-eight, right? A journalist. She wrote about a lot of events around the area, and even managed to write a few editorials based off of the traveling experiences her job afforded her. I remember she won an award for one of them, a Pulitzer, I think. And she gave it to you, didn't she? Because you were her only son and she knew how impressed you were by it. Big things happen to strangers, never to someone you know, let alone your parent, right? And it only became more significant when she went off to a conference in the capital and never came back. You didn't know why until the story was printed in big, bold letters as the headline for the front page of the newspaper a couple of days later. It's shameful. It's hard enough to lose a loved one, let alone learn from another source that has no regard to your feelings. Words cannot express my sympathy, even now, after all this time. I suppose, in retrospect, you can't really be blamed for how you turned out.25

Speaking of which, I'm sure you have been wondering in the back of you mind this entire time how I happen to know so much about you? Well, I cannot tell you. At least not for the most part, not a word. However, I can tell you one thing. I've seen the box. Yes, I know it's wrong to enter and examine someone's house without their knowledge or permission, but it's second nature to me; and once I tell you why, you will be very glad I did. I will not tell you when, but just know that in some recent time I visited your apartment while you were away. I was researching whether or not you had anything to live for in order to make sure I was right in killing you. One look around quickly led me to searching and I found the box in a matter of seconds. I removed the lid without hesistation, naturally. At first, I was confused. There were little model ships, a couple of jigsaw puzzles displaying battle cruisers, and a dusty, crumpled, application for the Navy, which had been discolored by brown and yellow splotches with time. I was forming the idea that you obviously dreamed of being a sailor. This alone wasn't going to save you, though. Then I saw the paper; the same newspaper that tactlessly announced "Prize-winning local journalist dead!" At that moment, I began to feel doubtful of my intentions.26

I carried the paper with me into the other room, just to make sure. And that's when everything hit me. All over your walls were pictures of ships: cruisers, aircraft carriers, submarines, and different varities I couldn't recognize. There was a table with models of such naval craft formed in a ring. In the center was your mother's award. That's when everything came together to me. You wanted to be a sailor; it was your dream. Not just a dream, like one out of many, but the only life you envisioned for yourself.But then when your mother died, you became frightened and developed a phobia of ever leaving this town, convinced that if you did, you would die too. To conserve your mortality, you gave up your dream to stay here, to stay alive. Your fear of death has since then taken over your life. I understand how your mind works now, after seeing how you exist. To you, anything you aren't sure of is a risk, whether it be a promotion, making new friends, or even breaking out of your routine by the slightest bit. 27

I can't tell you how disappointed I am, but at the same time I cannot blame you for everything. Your mother died young, a fate you didn't want. You gave up on your dreams so you could live a full life, but your fear has driven you into such a miserable state that you have no life to live. And look where it's gotten you now: quite close to her age and here, with me; and I'm going to kill you.28

Unless...29

I'll tell you what. I want you to think back to what I said earlier, when I was talking about how I have thought about this for some time, primarily because I don't like to make hasty decisions. I said "primarily" because it is a single part of my decision, and I don't have to tell you that obviously means there is another part. Would you like to know what that other part consists of? It consists of a choice; your first real choice in 20 years. As for selecting a car, deciding on the best doctor to treat your aches and pains; those don't count. You know why? Because with those examples, the stakes were not as high as your life. Yes, _____, this choice will make you gamble with your life. It sounds like a risk, doesn't it? It does, at first. But it isn't, really. It isn't because I know what you really want; you really want to follow your dream, to become a sailor and see everything the world has to offer, just like you did when you were a child. Don't try to deny your feelings. I see how your eyes still glow with the image of you, in a captain's uniform, standing at the bow with your cruiser at top speed, heading for the horizon and everywhere beyond. I know that's what you want, but only you can make it happen if you choose to do so. Here is your choice: be a slave to your fear of life and the unknown, and I will kill you where you sit, because your life as it is holds nothing worthwhile, no meaning, only never-ending dissatisfaction and the recurring "What if?" However, if choose to leave this wretched existence behind and follow your passion, you will only find happiness. All you have to is break fear's hold.30

-31

Well?32

-33

Really? Are you sure? 34

-35

Very well then. I'm sure you feel you made the right choice.36

If that is how it is to be, then there is nothing left for me to do but take my leave. I must say, though, before I go, that I'm proud of you, _____. You recognize the importance of dreams again, and I'm sure you will quickly realize that it is what you should have been doing all along. You know your mother would feel the same way.37

Just remember, though: Never give up on that dream, that most burning passion that gives you, every day, a reason to live...or you will be seeing me again sooner than you think.38