Can I have a Cigarette? - by Ibn Abdullah 🦁

"Can I Have a Cigarette?" "Hmm? How we met? Why would you want to know that? Well... Vanessa and I met in high school. Why do you want to know how our relationship started? Odd question. You've been asking these sorts of questions all day. The last guy was far more professional. What? Don't look at me like that. I'll answer your question. Jeez. Our relationship started like any other. It was beautiful. Vanessa was my everything. Everything and more. I was the quiet nerd, you see, always engrossed in D&D battles with Tyler and Andrew, so I always wondered why she was interested in a scrawny weirdo like me. She would always come over to my table and offer me her lunch. The most popular girl in school, for God's sake—and in front of the whole cafeteria, for that matter. How could I not fall in love with her? It didn't matter how angry it made Brad whenever she sat with me. I was just happy to have her around. Honestly, I thought she was out of my league. Hehehe. Imagine being in my shoes. The girl every boy had a crush on and every girl wanted to be, admiring you. Even the so-called coolest guy in school, Bradley McStevens, was head over heels in love with her... and she chose... good ol' me. Imagine the pressure. I had no choice but to worship her. And can I tell you a secret? I enjoyed every bit of it. Being with her never tired me. Her words never bored me. Her voice never lost its sweetness in my ears. She'd rest her head on my lap while I told her about the wyverns and the elves and dwarves and orcs and dragons and knights in the realm of Magsinia. Somehow, Vanessa Hawkings ended up marrying good ol' Boomer Ben. That's what they called me, by the way. Vanessa and Ben. Who would've thought? And how beautiful it was. Gosh... I loved her so much. Hmm? How did it end up... all messed up? Where do I even begin? You see, there's something you need to know about me. I'm a bit of a bum, you see. Argh... I didn't make enough. Not even working three jobs could cut it. I guess she fancied herself a queen and I simply... wasn't enough." *"So she changed because you were poor?"*"Well, we all like easy, straightforward answers, don't we? Well, boo hoo. Some questions don't have straightforward answers at all. Some questions don't even have answers, mind you. I could sit down here and tell you Vanessa left me because I wasn't in the best place financially. That would be a satisfying answer, and she'd be the villain my narrative needs her to be. But you see... I can't do that. Because the truth is... I don't have the answer. The answer exists only in her head... so I suppose we'll never know now that she's..." "She ruined my life, quite alright... but she had her reasons. There are no universal villains. In my story, she played the villain. To her family... I'm the villain. So... it all depends on your viewpoint. The angle. Where you choose to view it all from. Oh God... I feel high. Don't understand half of what I'm saying. Can I have a cigarette?" *"So... why then? Why did you do it?"* "Ignoring my request, I see? Fine. Officer Miguel gives me a smoke once in a while. He's a kind man. To answer your question... Why I did it? Well... Justice. I believe everyone deserves justice. Myself included. Don't you think so?" *"But do you truly regard that as justice? To go to such extremes? Taking the law into your own hands?"* "THE LAW! The law, you say? The law is why I'm in this position in the first place. The law allowed her to harm me. The law was her accomplice. Where was the law when she wronged me? Let me tell you a story, Mr. Journalist. Journalists sure love their stories. Once upon a time, there lived a miserable man who loved his wife. He always did his best to give her all he could. One day, the man was returning home from a tiring shift, his ears still ringing from the explosions at the demolition site. In his hand, he held a bouquet of flowers he'd bought from a florist. His wife had been quarrelsome of late, but he was determined to make amends. He would meet her with flowers... and good news. His comic book had finally reached editors who understood his vision. *Blade: The Hero of Justice* would surely be a hit, and he would finally start making decent money. I was... I mean, he was... sure that the news would brighten her mood. Guess how she welcomed her hardworking husband. With a pen... and divorce papers. She didn't even accept the flowers, you see. She also went a step further. She told me she was moving. Out of town. Out of the country, even. And... taking the kids with her. Her threats came true. She took my kids from me. She left with another man. The better man won, I guess. I accepted my fate. Now, the story doesn't end there. The better man was quite better, you see. He... He dumped her. Hahaha! Can you imagine? He dumped her! I was happy... Until I wasn't. She came back. Not to make amends. Not to rekindle old flames. Not even with a shred of sympathy. She came back to take even more from me. What I never had when I was with her... Money. 'It's for the children,' she said. Child support. Laughable. Well... she got it. My comic book sales. She split it... and went off. Now... would I be fair to paint her the villain? Was I not wronged?" *"That does not justify what you did."* "Shhhhh. That is not what I asked. Was I not wronged? *I ask the questions here, not you.* Ah, fine. Don't answer. I'll answer for you. God, I need a cigarette. She wronged me. Terribly so. Ruined my life. Took everything from me." *"Even if... even if we hypothetically agree that she wronged you... your actions... what you did...* I shudder even at the thought of it. Do you think it's justified?" "Justified or not? I think that's subjective. Quite frankly... I don't care. What I wanted was not justice. It was revenge. And what do you think the best way to take revenge is? I'll give you options: A. Do to them exactly what they did to you. B. Do them harm, small or large. Or... C. Do even more than what they did to you. Make them regret ever harming you in the first place. Make them cry. Beg. Plead. Suffer. Regret. Regret is the most important part. Because revenge that does not incite regret... is simply ineffective. Now... your pick. You can only choose one. There are no guidelines. No rules. No laws to guide the art of revenge. There is no such thing as the ethics of vengeance. I ask again... Was I not wronged?" *"And the other women?"* "Oh... Well, the second woman bore a striking resemblance to Vanessa. When I saw her... I remembered. Let's just say anger got the best of me. She was an eyesore. I couldn't stand her. Her existence offended me. So I ended it." *"And the third?"* "After the second... they all started to look alike. Like her." *"And the fourth?"* "Same thing." ""The fifth?"* "Same thing." *"All because they looked like her?"* "Yes. It all goes back to Vanessa... and her wrongdoings." *"They were innocent. The fifteen other women you killed... they were innocent."* "Yes." "Yes, they were." "Can I get a goddamn cigarette?"

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