The Birth of Se7en
I have woken up early this morning. The sun hasn't risen, and the dark polluted sky still casts darkness over the city. What a horrible city this is. It is Hell on Earth. If Jerusalem is Heaven, then New York is Hell. My work will change the way people live their lives, I know that. I am aware that what I am going to do won't change the world, or re-path our destiny. I know this, but I am certain that the reaction of the world will be genuine. Shock. Horror. Fright. I will be a reminder, a symbol of good, of decency. What I am going to do will bring to the attention of every sinner how corrupt they are themselves. How my deeds are not crimes. I am absolving. I am not the sinner, I am the cleanser.
The Seven Sins will be punished. And if gruesome and bizarre are what the world needs to comprehend, to realise what this justice means, how these lessons should be heeded, I am more than prepared to push my conscience to the extreme.
I awoke a few hours ago. I realise why now. I had fallen asleep watching Greed on the midnight news bulletin. The lawyer, the fighter of justice! He had defended a paedophile in court, and he had won the case. This man, this middle-aged schoolteacher walked shoulder to shoulder with his Defender. I cried and shouted at the television set. My neighbours banged on my ceiling for silence. The paedophile walked OVER TO THE MOTHER of the child as she sat weeping, and held his hand out in apology.
I screamed. I remember this. Then I fainted. I woke again an hour later sweating. I had dreamt of this news article over and over again in my sleep, and I was unable to react. I watched the lawyer in his office, I watched him work, I watched him win cases for drug dealers and rapists. All I could so is watch.
I am up before sunrise, and I see my nightmare had purpose. Focus. It is Friday and the Sloth's rent is due. I need groceries. I have a checklist as the final week draws to a close. I will pass by the lawyer's office on my way to the supermarket; no doubt, the press will be ready to interview him on his success.
I cannot take the subway anymore. I prefer to walk now anyway. There are fewer people. I can prevent myself from vomiting and cursing when all I pass are children from the city school, the frequent homeless man. I take comfort in not knowing if they deal drugs. Using public transport however, the Park Avenue crowd are unavoidable, the disgusting beggars, with undisguised needle marks in their arms. Walking is healthier in a city of sinners. To avoid sins is not to ignore them; I think that to myself whilst I walk. I cannot risk ignoring sin. Ignorance is deadly. As my life draws to a close, I indulge in avoiding what sin I can, rather than let them overwhelm me.