Martin

Martin

"I spent my whole life planning for my eighteenth birthday. I tossed away my youth hurrying into adulthood. I wanted the safety. I would be a man and never have to cower to the whims of others, "Martin told the man sitting beside him.

"Was your childhood bad? Were you running from something?"

"No, that's the odd thing. I was bored by being a kid. My family treated me well. This gnawing voice was always telling me that I was ready...ready to move on. Being a kid was just temporary and I had better things to do," Martin said as scratched his chest in a sideways motion, an itch caused by the thick fabric he wore.

"Were drugs or alcohol a factor?"

"Of course, I experimented but I didn't like the feelings they produced. I wasn't a fan of being a kid with no control, so it seemed stupid to surrender it willingly to drugs. I had so much more planned that I refused to let drugs deflate my hopes, like I'd seen with others. Drugs and alcohol tend to chew you up and spit you out in the loser's gutter. That wasn't the road for me."

"Do you see a reason for how you ended up here? Tell me in your own words. '

"I'm not sure. I don't have an easy answer I keep replaying it in my head. I was the guy who followed the rules. My plan was always to excel within the system. For God's sake, I was a frickin Boy Scout, earning every merit badge offered. Just got my Eagle last year...made my mom so proud," as he spoke, Martin wiped his eye at the memory.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of the stale water in the paper cup beside him. Martin continued, "Bad decisions were made that day. I wouldn't be here, if I could take that day back. I met a girl who I thought was interested in me. I wanted to take the next adult step in my plan. You know... sex. Even love, if it led to that but she played me. She hurt me first. No one rejects me. It doesn't fit into my plan."

"Why not walk away?"

"I wondered myself .... after, when I saw the blood and her body burned and cut. I had never experienced true anger. It exploded in my head and I didn't know how to change the hatred. It kept pouring out of me. If she just hadn't baited me."

"Any remorse?' the reporter asked.

"Am I sorry? Look where I am. I would have responded in the same way I think to the girl, but I would leave no trace like a Boy Scout always should."

"Thank you for the interview. May God be with you, today."
"Could you do me a favor? Tell the guard, I want a birthday cake with eighteen candles as part of my last meal. Chocolate, I think. Mom will come to celebrate the day."

Word count 500