We sat together, you and I, with our families. We cheered for our children as they threw their caps in the air. We clapped until our hands were numb and we roared ourselves hoarse. Your son embraced my daughter, and they ran together into the night to celebrate.
They ran as far as they could run, to the edges of the world. She followed him as he ran, he was her guiding light. Why he ran, well, you likely know more than I.
They ran, and they stayed, and they put down roots. From such a distance, all looked gleaming, and happy, and lovely. No one knew.
He took her compassionate heart, and stewed it in pain, then slowly sliced off a little bit at a time to savor for his own needs, watching her writhe in his shadow.
I used to bring her to this park. When I heard she was gone, I would come here. I thought it would help.
I like it more when it is empty. We only have the crickets and dewdrops to keep us company. I don’t have to feel the echos of laughter and clinking of swings as chains binding my heart. I like it as it is now, when the streets are as empty as the churches.
That will change soon, when the dawn calls to the sleeping children and the families start moving about. I will leave you for now, but you will have company soon. Someone will come along and wipe the dew from your eyelashes, the blood from your mouth. Someone will clean you up before you go off into the darkness to be greeted by the monster son you made.
P.S. – As part of my research, I’ve been studying Sexual Homicide: Patterns and Motives by John E. Douglas, Ann W. Burgess, and Robert K. Ressler. If the names are familiar, it’s because they’re bigwig FBI profilers. It reads a bit dry at times, it’s a little like an academic paper written for the general public.
However, it has the lovely side effect of making a Criminal Minds marathon into an audience participation event, and I’m having a blast with my “research”. In honor of this bliss, I’m going to start using another deck next week and start exploring more human monsters.