The classroom was empty and he began to wonder whether or not it had been a good idea to come here. No doubt, the note was written as clearly as a full moon:

7:30 am, on the day that you love most
In the place where many things happened
With the people you never thought you would meet

He re read the note several time. Yes, this was right, he knew it, but it was already 7:35. What was going on? Nervously, he paced the room. Back and forth, back and forth. To and fro, to and fro. He gave a sigh and sat down in one of the small chairs, interlocked his finger and rested his forehead on them. Suddenly, there was a sound of the window smashing open and he looked up. A man stood there, maybe middle aged, He wore a dark green coat and black pants. His long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he wore a piece of black cloth that covered his nose, mouth and chin. Strange. Who was this man? Then, he pulled out a gun and pointed it straight at him.

“I know who you are, Joshua Bellings” said the man.
“Who are you?” He asked. The man chuckled.
He panicked. “Don’t you remember me, Joshua? DON’T YOU REMEMBER ME?!” the man’s voice hardened and intensified. “I know who you really are and what you have done, Joshua. Don’t try to hide it within a different identity. Your past will always follow you around, and here it is, Joshua. Here it is”. The man chuckled even more, and he grew worried. He knew exactly who this man was. Exactly. The man stopped laughing and stared at him intently with startling blue eyes that could have only belonged to one person. The man had his finger on the trigger.
“I know what you have done Joshuua Bellings! Fess up. Fess up to your crimes and the fact that you stole the happiness of people. Confess! Confess or you could be lying dead on the floor, just as my father lay, after you had been finished with him. Don’t try to hide your mistakes! They will always find their way back to you and haunt you”.
“I never did anything” said he, coldly “I am a successful businessman, rich as hell! Whatever you may have thought I have done is a lie and you know it!. He pulled out a gun. “I did nothing” he said as he pulled the trigger and ended the life of the man. As he lay dead on the floor, blood pouring from his chest, the same way as many before him had. He put the gun away, fixed his tie and walked out of the classroom. He did nothing.

∞?∞

He knew it. He knew it was dangerous, yet he still did it. People had warned him. Many times. But he didn’t listen. Now, he was a changed man. He was no longer J.B., the boy who never talked. He had become someone feared. Feared but anonymous.
It started three years ago, when he was merely 18. First year of official adulthood. First year of murder. He couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy it. That it wasn’t fun. Of course it was! He felt an adrenaline rush as he had never felt before. It was exhilarating. However, he couldn’t help but feel bad. Guilty, almost. Almost. He laughed, now thinking about it. The first out of a dozen murders. In three years. Murders that had built his empire. Were his payback to the world.
It hurt, the memories. They had become to come back to him, and wouldn’t stop. But it didn’t matter. Pain was good. Pain was evidence of weakness leaving the body.
Two years old. That was how old he was the first time he had gotten whipped. He remembered every detail. The harsh lash of the belt against his soft skin. His cries. Tears. Blood. Years. Years of this torture went by. Twelve more years. He ran away. Took everything he owned, which wasn’t much, and ran. Eventually he was found and taken to the police. Court. Lawyers. Yelling. Blood. Finally, the next stage of his life begun when he was placed in a foster home. Ran away when he was 18. The killings began.
The story of his life. Told in one paragraph. Hah! Not that it mattered. The past was behind him. Gone. Done. Now it was time to build his future. Not to say that the killings weren’t to get revenge. Revenge on the world. For doing what it did to him. No, he was stuck in the past, yet moving into the future. Not in the present, nor in any other. He supposed that we all made mistakes. But it’s when these mistakes turn into sins that nothing else begins to matter anymore.