He awoke sweating and contorted curled up in his bed. He was dreaming the same dream. He hated that dream. He hated that he sweated when he had it. Today was the day he was getting out. One last bowl of some horrible soupy porridge then freedom. He could not wait to say goodbye to the smirk face of the guards and his caretaker. He hated her. She always sounded so mocking and horrible to him. Almost as if she was trying to make him spiteful. She was always a snake to him. Protecting herself with her guards, a log. He hoped the log got a termite infestation before he left so he could act smug and smirk at them and most importantly not be made fun of behind his back. He would finally be able to get revenge. Revenge on the reason he was in there. On the man whose fault it was that he was in here.
“Wake up Anthony, time to go home!” Rang the familiar mocking voice.
The door swung open. He was out. He was happy. After 12 years was finally out. He had dreamed about it every day on his hard, cold bed in his monotonous beige room. He imagined a shining sun to glare down on his face, but as it commonly is in England the pitter-patter of rain bore down. His father was there. He hated his father. His father was there looking disappointed at him when they took him in. His father told them to take him in. After it happened. He had waited 12 years to return it. The favour. Anthony had waited 12 years rotting away in the prison. For 12 years, he had needed to fulfill the other half of the favour. He now could. And it would feel too good to pull the trigger against the man who destroyed his life, his career, his hopes and dreams. It would give him a chance to return to where he could be.
“Come on Anthony. Do it now. They will come back soon. Do it now or do it never and live with the pain. They will take you back again if they see this. Do you want to go back?” Anthony thought.
He did not want to fail again. He looked down the short boxy barrel. He felt the cold in his hand. Three clicks rung out. It was loaded. He aimed his shot. He would not mess up again. He could not. Bang! All his pains were over. He was so relieved to have finally gotten revenge. He dropped dead. This time it worked. He no longer had to deal with or remember the mocking psychiatrists treating him like he was insane.