Decision Time

Ladies and gentleman of the jury, I have been wrongly accused of Murder in the first degree.  I stand before you, and state my case. My defense, if you will.  Your duty, as I see it, is to listen, assess, and decide. 

Were these incidents murder?  Pre-meditated, willful murder?  Alternatively, were they justifiable homicide?

Someone wise, I do not know whom, once said ‘a person that defends himself or herself in court has a fool for a client.’  I am a fool such as this.

My ability, if indeed that is what this is, is to read minds—selected by me of course.  I cannot only read their thoughts; I have the power in my keeping to alter them.  I have the choice of what I see--and what I deem to be a thought unnecessary. 

I have the power to change those thoughts.

As I am sure you can imagine--I carry an awesome responsibility on my shoulders.  I have the power to change these lives, to irrevocably set a chain of events in motion that may indeed bring these people to an early demise.

Make no mistake; I have done so several times.

Is there then not blood on my hands?

Have I done so without thought or pity?

That depends entirely on how I am provoked.

This then is my curse, my fate.  An obsession has eaten into the very marrow of my bones.

Are they victims?  Perhaps, they are. 

I prefer to refer to them as puppets. Yes, I like that term. It fits perfectly.

They are the puppets and I am the puppeteer. 

Like an orchestra, they must obey my commands, what choice do they have, I control every thought and in consequence every action and reaction that they have, I am both the puppeteer and conductor.

Can I maneuver one to kill another?  Oh yes, yes indeed.  Is that conspiracy to commit murder? 

Alternatively, I prefer to think of it as Murder/Suicide. 

You are the ones who will decide, I will simply provide you with the instruments with which to make those decisions.

My little puppets were such fun at first, thinking silly thoughts, and reacting to them, without contemplating the result of their stupid reactions and undignified manner. 

I simply assisted them to reach a different conclusion.  A different action provoking of course a reaction in return.

In some instances, I freely admit I went perhaps a little too far.

Death, and death at the hands of another, is not a pleasant thing to witness.  However, witness it I did.

I stood back after having set my puppets in motion and watched as they murdered, slicing through the jugular vein and watching as their victims lives ebbed away.

Does that witnessing make me the murderer?

Could I have entered their troubled distorted minds and changed the outcome? 

Yes, I have that ability. 

The fact that I chose not to intervene…does that make me responsible for the choices they made?  I helped them put the plan in action; they made the decision by their behavior.

Pitting one against the other is a joyous game to play.

The power is intoxicating.

A husband or a wife caught cheating; does one not need to seek revenge? 

I have been gentle with a few of these pathetic puppets and enabled them to work through the poor delusion that they actually have a life.

The vengeance is perfect. 

They must remain together; forever tortured by the doubt that infidelity creates. 

Do you find that harsh?  I doubt that any one of you would be able to not at least think about revenge.

Have I caused murder to happen?

Have I blood on my hands?

Do I sleep at night?  Yes, no and no…it is up to you the jury to decide which of those questions has which response.

One of my alleged victims was screaming loudly and piercingly annoying, I simply made the screaming stop. 

It does tend to be difficult to make that dreadful sound once your throat has been slit.

Each puppet becomes another challenge, these new puppets with vibrancy and color and life to burn, they are the greatest challenge of all.  They offer me their thoughts and then battle with my invasion, turning on me and fighting back every step of the way.

Ah--such exhilaration--the wonder of the game when I am pitted against someone I take a liking to. 

It is a wondrous, joyous event; I journey ever deeper into their minds and souls, creating white-hot pleasure within them that they have no choice but to share. 

Whilst ever they continue to burn so brightly, they remain in my circle of friends.  Fettered and spoiled as all my true friends are, I allow them freedom from responsibility; I enhance their lives and make them rich and vibrant.  They meet every need of any person, live, laugh, and cry.

However, life as you all know is full of disappointments.

Perhaps some fools need it.

Not I…!

If foolishly, they disappoint me, if they should lose that vibrancy, that color--become brown, dull, uninteresting, flat and boring.  Then I will turn their lives upside down.  Until they scream with rage at my perceived injustice. 

It was not my doing, I gave them thoughts and feelings that should have allowed them to live and love throughout their lives.

Disappoint me…and you die.

Simple--yes?

No petty discussions or pleading for mercy at my feet.

I do not often change my mind…or the inevitable outcome of their betrayal.

I offered them the magic of life.

They did not live up to it.

I hit the delete button…and voila, they ceased to exist.

Therefore, Ladies and Gentleman, I leave the verdict in your capable hands.

Am I a murderess, a homicidal maniac perhaps?

Or a writer…whose characters will never learn to behave as they should.

You Decide