2 am thoughts
Turning about in the shriveled blankets, rough against my skin, my alarm clock shone brightly, illuminating part of my bedroom corner. By then, I should have been asleep, just like any healthy human being with a regulated sleeping schedule. However, it was that same sensation of sleepiness that drove my racing thoughts.
Only four or so hours were left until I would be overwhelmed by broad daylight, engulfed by the heat of the mother of all life; only four or so hours of quiet until the sound of movement becomes apparent. Only in this quiet could I think, as they had previously bombarded me with their long ramblings distracted me of my methodical analysis, tearing down my psychological endurance after hours of question. Luckily, I did not fallen into what they thought as their sly techniques. I left in the name of my rights, leaving them more bewildered with the case than they had before. It took them years to even bring me into that dull confinement, but only days for me to do what had brought me there. I am a genius they are no match against. It is my brains against an elite group of investigators. I always win. They just do not know that they have lost yet. They think the game is still ongoing, but I won the round a long time ago. The game is only continuing under my will. I coordinate and manipulate while they blind themselves in a false sense of victory and security.
Those idiots, I had thought as I left the interrogation room a few weeks ago, don’t know they’re making it even more fun.
I told myself I was done. Only now do I realize that it has been two years since I told myself that. The thrill of the chase drove me to continue, hence sprouting the deeply rooted passion in me that was there all along. If I was able to flee hundreds of investigators and cops over the course of three years, seven months, and twenty eight days–I never counted, but the department did–then how could just one try to pry my secrets out? Stupid, simply stupid.
They take me as a fool, showering me with compliments, tempting me to spill all of it. They think I have little left to admit, but all I have revealed is nonsense–utter nonsense. They cannot accuse me of being a liar. They have no solid evidence yet… Only handwritten notes and scattered DNA, as they are still playing hide and seek with the corpses and weapons.
As the sun approaches the sky, reaching its light over the landscape, I know now.
I must go. This wretched country was fun, but I have another in mind.
I will create a trail for them. They must know of my glory.
Only one hundred bodies later will they catch me.
Oh gosh, I’m gonna regret this cringey writing later.