"Character
Description"
His
name is Eric, being 33 years old. He is a police officer-quite polished in
terms of manners. He is a kind, positive, and benevolent person. Despite such
positive aspects, he has very bad memories and cannot really remember stuff
when it gets into details. Oh, he's obese, by the way.
Another target,
another kill. I, a lieutenant officer in the West Chicago Police Department, am
renowned for my strong sense of justice among my comrades. Though kind-looking
and benevolent I appear to be, I in fact am a man of vengeance, when it comes
to dealing with criminals. When a first-degree crime occurs within the
districts of East Chicago, I go hunting for the suspect—not to put him before
the state jurisdiction, but to find him and inflict immediate punishment upon
the felon.
It has not been so long since I began to secretively undertake such
actions. Ever since I first entered the Police Department, I had, until
recently, believed that the criminals I had arrested were fairly tried by the
law and were passed down to serve the sentences they rightfully deserve. But
that was not exactly the case, I discovered. It of course was not about the
imprudence or hastiness of my search and arrest. Cases which the court rejected
the indictment, having deemed it as imprudent or improper were rare, so rare
that I can probably count them all with his fingers.
After witnessing those I had thrown into jail and put before indictment
on some plain streets of Chicago, I tried to figure out what is wrong. It later
turned out that not all criminals were set free from the jurisdiction. Only those
with ties to the judicial branch, holding tight relations to members of the
government, and being affluent enough to forward some largesse before the court
judges were obviously far beyond the realms of justice.
I could no longer stand this, not after receiving an arrogant, haughty
greeting last week near my neighborhood, from a criminal I had indicted for a first-degree
battery who actually happened to be the cousin of the state chief justice. I
just could not sit and watch those ‘evils’ of society freely regain the
fruitful right to freedom. So I decided not to leave the fate of those felons
to the hands of the corrupted Chicago judicial council, but to the very hands
of my own.
But a problem—a problem which I am quite unaware of—has dragged my rush
towards my way of ‘justice’ into nowhere. My inborn forgetfulness—notorious to
practically everyone who had worked with him as team—made my vengeance
extremely difficult and even dangerous, in a way. I often was confused between
objectives, whom to merely quail and whom to secretly kill. It was not rare for
me to mistake one’s name or his felony with those of another. And I, seldom,
even marked the victim as my target, instead of the perpetrator.
But still, I must say that definitely, I have once again revoked the
sense of justice among Chicago, which has been disregarded for such a long
period of time. I admit that the methods may not have been prudent. My
threateningly spooky thoughts and audacious plans, however, were never to be
discovered, not if it wasn’t my very daughter. Having been familiar with the
masked, bulky man who ran over her dear friend just after she sneakily slipped
an adorable teddy bear into her bag at a store, she is indeed experiencing
inner conflict within her conscience and the sturdy tie to her very father—me—by
blood.
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