But I Need You - W. Winters Page 0,14

every so often with a victim of his own was a bad man. He didn’t prey on little boys like the ones in the cell did, but those women were victims nonetheless.

The first time in the barn, my safe haven and escape, I was shocked and sat in horror because it couldn’t possibly be happening. Not again. The second time, I crawled out and tried to wake the woman the moment the barn closed with that eerie creak from rusted old hinges. I shook her, I did everything I could to get her to move. That’s when I realized I was too late.

What a weak being I was, to shy away until it was too late. Yet that was who I was at my core. It’s what defined me. Both the boy and the woman showed me that. Her blond hair was matted with dirty blood when I realized how lacking I was in morality. Hiding to protect myself while allowing others to perish disgusted me, but that’s what I did.

I didn’t know if the woman was innocent, but the boy was and that’s when I heard his voice again: The bad men always lose. Wasn’t it bad that I didn’t do the right thing? That I wasn’t the hero he’d told stories about. I was nothing like the person he thought I was.

And so I waited and I watched because I wanted the bad man to fall. I thought maybe it would make it right. It would make sense, all of the tragedy would, if only I aided in this man’s demise.

So I waited, I followed, I watched and planned a way to help the good guys bring him down … because back then, I thought there were heroes who wanted to take down men like him. I thought they would listen and they’d bring the monsters to justice.

It didn’t take long before I realized no one would come. They came after me instead. They wouldn’t listen to what I was saying. I was a dirty, lost kid and all they wanted to know was my name. They didn’t listen to me. And I couldn’t bring myself to say my name. They couldn’t take me away. Not when I had so much work to do to make up for the bad things I’d allowed to happen.

I decided I had to be the one. I’d be the reason that bad man would lose.

It would be justice for the boy. All of the bad men need to pay and it started with him.

I hadn’t counted on her sneaking in, her hair in wild curls and the smile on her face so pure and full of hope. It had been so long since I’d seen a smile like that. Shock held me in place as the screwdriver in my hand, the longest one I could find in the abandoned place, slipped to the floor. He would have heard; she would have been my undoing if not for her shriek of laughter hiding the dull bang.

What was that sound doing in this place? It didn’t belong here. She didn’t belong here either.

She called him Daddy and ran to him while he cleaned his hands with the same towel that had blood on it not too long ago.

Through the broken wood slat I watched, the weapon at my feet in the hay that I was certain now smelled more like me than I reeked of it.

Conflict took ahold of me for the first time in a long time. I wasn’t sure what to do and the boy’s voice was quiet. I think he would have liked her too.

The man was a monster, but I watched him hold her hand.

I followed from a distance, safe enough to see it all.

The man was bad, that I knew. And he would lose; I knew that too.

My small child’s mind was uncertain where she fit in and where I fit in. Until I came up with another plan, one the boy loved even more.

He can teach me how to kill. He does it so well.

I’ll let the one bad man live for a while. After all, I needed someone to teach me. Who best to learn from than the monster himself? And I couldn’t be the reason the girl stopped smiling. I couldn’t take her father away, not when I knew how much pain it would cause.

Sitting back in the worn leather seat of the marked van, I watch the series of text messages on my laptop. They’re