X Marks the Spot

22 - Plan B

Joel took some convincing to follow Lauren's plan of going to the police station, but he felt cornered. He'd run out of options. Who else could help him against a murderer? There was a good chance the police wouldn't be able to help him either, but he had to try. Over the past couple of days, he'd begun to realise how precious his life was, and how it could so easily be taken away from him. Now that he had Lauren in his life too, he had even more motivation to take action. Their friendship just seemed so right to him that he couldn't imagine it ending so soon. 

So they took a bus to the police station. Public transport was Lauren's suggestion, and again she was surprising him. It wasn't like he was expecting her to want to travel in a limousine, but he didn't think she'd be so carefree about how she travelled. He began to wonder why it was in human nature to judge others by the way they talked or acted instead of appreciating the opportunity to live. 

They arrived at the station and Lauren walked to a bench just outside the building. "I'll wait out here for you," she said, sitting down. "Cool?"

"Yeah," Joel replied, doubting himself more by the second. "Yeah, of course."

He walked inside, finally alone. He crossed his fingers in his pocket as he walked over to a police officer sat behind a desk. 

***

"Can you tell us what this man looked like?"

Joel was sat in a small room with another police officer. After explaining the ordeal he'd been through since the day he'd seen X through his window and being slightly concerned about the police officer's lack of interest, he'd remained silent while the police officer took notes, only speaking when he was asked questions. 

"I didn't see him close up..." Joel admitted rather nervously. "He, uh... he was tall. And wearing black gloves. And he had a camera the first time I saw him." He wanted to talk about how menacing this man was, how petrified Joel had been every time he saw him. But that wouldn't make it any easier to identify this guy, Joel told himself. 

"Hmm," the police officer said, still writing. "Are your parents aware of this situation?"

"No, I -"

"Why not?"

Joel hesitated, a little taken aback by the officer's manner. "Well... my dad's not around - he doesn't live with us. And I'm not really close with my mum. I feel like... they wouldn't believe me, even if I told them."

The officer seemed to consider this for a moment, before his aspect changed. Joel wasn't sure what he was thinking about him or what he was going to do, but he said nothing. 

"Wait here for a moment, please."

And with that, the officer got to his feet and left Joel alone in the room. His spirits rose with every step the officer took. He closed the door behind him.

This must mean they're actually doing something about the situation, right? Joel asked himself. Lauren was right... maybe they can actually help me. Maybe everything will be okay. X might even be caught after this, if the police know he's after me.

Joel sat alone in the room for almost ten minutes before resorting to pacing for another five. His curiosity got the better of him and he approached the door. 

Maybe I should just wait a little longer...

No. He's had long enough. 

Joel opened the door and, to his relief, it didn't make a sound. He peeked his head around the door and didn't see anyone. However, he did hear two voices somewhere down the corridor. 

"What'd you do?"

"Got his mother on the phone. She didn't have a clue what I was talking about. Says he's doing fine at school and everything."

Are they talking about... me?

"So what's his deal? He can't be telling the truth about this."

"No, course not. All he told us 'bout the guy was he had gloves on. Who the fuck doesn't wear gloves in this weather?"

"He didn't tell you anything else?"

"He said he didn't tell his parents. I reckon he's just bored. Probably after attention, if you ask me."

Joel shut the door and unintentionally curled his hands into fists.

Attention? 

He could feel something growing inside him, something colossal that he almost feared he could lose control of. The only reason he didn't fear it was because anger was overcoming him, taking control of every single nerve in his body. He could have tamed it if he'd been in a better state of mind. But in that moment, he didn't want to control anything. He wanted to inflict every bad thing on the world that the world had ever subjected him to. 

His legs took him to the chair that the police officer had given him to sit on. He picked it up and hurled it across the room. It didn't calm him down like he thought it would; it simply made him feel good, better than good. But it wasn't enough. It was time to do something big. 

He left the room. There wasn't a single part of him anymore that told him to stop, or to think about what he was doing, or to consider the fact that his actions would have consequences. He was almost dehumanised; just a walking, talking vessel of unrestrained anger. And he was only just beginning. 

"Kid!" the police officer called after Joel as he walked away. "Hey, kid! I ain't done talking to you!" His voice faded away as Joel left the building. 

The world is full of injustice. This is something everybody comes to realise as they age, but some don't understand what a dangerous process this is. When you are a child, you think that the world will be fair to you, even if it isn't fair to everyone else. This viewpoint is false, and slightly selfish, but not particularly harmful to anybody else. However, when we develop into adolescence, we acknowledge the fact that the world is unfair, but nothing we can do really changes that. This may be true, but some it means some people acquire the mindset that they can add to the injustices of the world without really realising that they are doing it. Every action has a reaction, and the effects of this reaction could bring fortune to one person and peril to another. So how do we decide the difference between good and evil?

For example, one time in my childhood, I had an encounter with a group of young boys. Being a young boy myself, I believed I had nothing to fear from them, but I was wrong. They wanted to set right what they thought was an injustice of the world: my weight - or rather, its excessiveness. And in doing so, they created another injustice: they broke my arm. It almost worked in a cycle, as I tried to set this right by reporting them, but through their eyes, my honesty was just another problem with the world. You see? 

Joel walked out of the station a different person, but his transformation was in danger of being short-lived, as Lauren sprung up from the bench she had been sat on to greet him.

"Joel! Jeez, you were in there ages. So what's happening? What're they gonna do?"

She cares.

"Nothing," he said expressionlessly. "They're not going to do anything."

"But - that's not fair! Come on, let's go back in. There must be something -"

"No."

"No?" Lauren's face fell and Joel hated to know he was the cause of it. 

"No, I need to go home. Stuff to think about."

And before she could protest, he had walked away. 

"Joel..." she said, as if saying his name one last time would bring him back, even if he was too far away to hear her.