THE MAN WITHOUT YESTERDAY

Part 1- Who Killed My Neighbour

I curled up on my cosy couch, ready for my nightly ritual. The television screen flickered to life, bathing the room in a soft glow as I tuned into the latest episode of "Who Killed My Neighbour?" This harrowing series, based on true events, chronicled the life of a notorious killer now confined in the country's most secure prison.

As dramatic music played over the show's title card, I leaned forward, my interest sharpened. The show chose not to focus on his current incarceration but instead delved into his past, exploring the life he led before his capture. It aimed to unravel the mystery of his descent into becoming a serial killer and the motivations behind his heinous acts. The narrative switched styles seamlessly, sometimes offering a cinematic experience, at other times capturing the rawness of a reality show.

A quick montage of scenes flashed across the screen: a grainy home video of the killer as a child, chilling reenactments of his murders, and poignant interviews with individuals from his former life.

Then came the interviews with those who had known him, old friends, and relatives whose lives he had touched and devastated. Their voices trembled as they shared their stories, their eyes haunted by the trauma that his crimes had left behind.

One woman, with tears streaming down her face, said, "He was always so quiet and polite. I never suspected a thing. How could I have known?" She averted her gaze from the camera, unable to hide the pain of her sister's loss. "He murdered my sister in cold blood. And the next day, he just smiled at me, as if nothing had happened."

The camera then cut to a man, visibly shaken, trying to maintain his composure. "He was my best friend. We grew up together, shared everything. He was like a brother to me." His voice cracked under the weight of the betrayal. "But then he changed. He became distant, secretive, and angry. He fell in with the wrong crowd, started using drugs, got into fights. It was as if he stopped caring about everyone and everything."

The show then featured another woman's voice, subdued and pained. "He was my first love," she revealed, her lip quivering. "He was charming, sweet, and funny. But he hid a dark side from me until it was too late." She paused, her gaze dropping. "He was fascinated by death, violence, and suffering. He had a collection of knives, firearms, and other weapons. He bore scars from self-inflicted wounds and had fantasies of causing harm, not just to me but to others as well."

With every episode, I was left with more questions than answers. Yet as those who had been close to him shared their memories, I began to piece together a clearer image of who he was. Whether it was an old childhood friend or an ex-lover divulging a dark secret, each account added a layer to the enigma of his psyche.

As the episode came to a close, I found myself pondering whether I could ever truly understand what made him—the man portrayed on the screen—tick, and in a broader sense, what drives any of us.