Page 3 of The Forbidden Villain
Have no such privilege.
As we are destined to be forever cursed by the evil that destroyed our lives.”
Lavender
New York, New York
Weeks later
Lavender
The wooden clock ticks loudly in the otherwise silent office as I sit on the couch, staring at the opposite wall,filled with books on psychology and the twisted human mind. I used to be all over them, searching for my next interesting read.
However, I’ve been here so many times over the past couple of months that they’ve lost all their appeal.
In fact, coming here is a chore I have to accept to please everyone around me and convince them I can be normal.
Well, pretend to because I don’t think the wordnormalwould ever apply to me again.
The hands on the clock move painfully slow. I wonder if I should…
“Lavender.” The soft yet firm voice pulls me back from my endless thoughts, which never let my mind rest. Resting means facing all my internal demons, and, well…it’s not an option.
Ever.
I look at my world-renowned psychiatrist, who agreed to work with me when everyone else considered me a hopeless case. Her dark hair and kind brown eyes stand out vividly against her pale skin.
Doctor Phoenix King.
“Yes?”
“What did you do yesterday?”
I climb on the couch and cross my legs as she writes something on her notepad, not taking her gaze away from me. The woman has some kind of superpower because she always manages to keep her attention on me.
“Nothing. I spent the whole day holed up in my apartment, listening to music and bingeing a TV show.”
It’s as pathetic as it sounds, which makes this whole conversation even more unbearable.
Another flawless note followed by a question. “What was the show about?”
“A famous serial killer. It’s more of a documentary series consisting of six episodes.” Her face remains blank, so Ielaborate, although it’s one secret I prefer to keep to myself. People tend to find a lot of things weird, but a girl like me taking a liking toward such documentaries? A whole new level of fucked up. “He hunted the men who hurt children. A vigilante of sorts.” I think this sounds even worse, so I add, “They caught him eventually, but he managed to murder fifteen rapists in the process.” It’s hard to hide the joy from my voice, and amusement flashes in her eyes before she makes yet another note. “The whole investigation was fascinating.”
“In what way?”
I grab a nearby pillow and hug it, digging my nails into the plushy thing while pondering her question. “The police were so desperate to catch him…they failed to see the bigger picture, in my opinion.”
“Which was?”
“He helped them. They had all these unresolved cases, and he brought justice to all of them, and somehow, they turned him into this villain who deserved the highest degree of punishments.” My heartbeat speeds up just remembering how he got the death penalty. “It’s unfair. He died as a murderer, and no one got to mourn him because he had no family. While all these men he killed had relatives crying over them and screaming that they didn’t believe the allegations or proofs.” A sigh slips past my lips. “Kind of surreal how distorted a perception can be.”
Another note, and the sound of the pen scratching against the paper is starting to grate on my nerves. “But he was a murderer, wasn’t he?”
Anger washes over me at hearing this, and I dig my nails deeper into the pillow. “He did the world a favor by killing those rapists. One of them kidnapped more than a dozen children in his lifetime. Yet the world considered him the perfect family man and a respected professional in his field. His small-towncommunity adored him. Sometimes the law ends up protecting the cunning and vile people instead of caring about the innocent.” My hollow chuckle rings in the air. “I should know.”
Several seconds pass as we stare at one another, and she cocks her head to the side, dropping the pen on her lap. “Two things can be true at the same time.” I blink. “Those men deserved what they got, but it was up to the law to punish them. The serial killer still committed a crime even if it was in the name of justice. One wrong doesn’t make another right.”
“Justice is not black and white. It has a lot of gray in it.”
