I lean on the table. The wood feels dirty and rotten. With the fingertips of my right hand I play with the knife. The blade is spotless, clean and sharp. The only other items, besides the knife, on the old table are a gun and a piece of cloth. The piece of cloth is wet and has a weird smell to it. Sunk into chloroform, it did its job pretty well.

I wait for the lump body to awake. He sits on the aluminum chair, sleeping. The only thing making the body not fall from the chair are the ropes tying him to it. I walk through the room, bring back my memories of that night many months ago. I remember sitting up in a dark room strap to a bed. Waking up not know who I am. Only to remember what he has done to me.

Finally, the body awakes. His eyes flap. He doesn't seem to recognize where he is. It takes many seconds for him to realize he is in his very own basement. The basement of his dead parents. The parents that educated him to be the best at whatever he does. The parents that tried to show him true values and morals about life. They failed. And then they died and he used their basement to commit horrible f*cking sins. But now he will have a taste of his own medicine. He will beg for his f*cking life, as I did many nights ago. I want him to cry and wimp! F*cking B*tch! He should f*cking die for what he did! What he did to me! He ####ed up my life. He destroyed it. He turned my soul inside out, pointing out my deepest fears.

"Are we awake, asshole?"

He looks at me, confused and nervous. He doesn't understand what happened to him. He doesn't remember him walking through the door of the house, unaware of what will happen. He doesn't remember me sneaking up to him from behind, putting the cloth sunk in chloroform onto his mouth, darkening his senses. He doesn't remember being dragged down the stairs into the old basement and being tied to the chair.

I kneel down to be at his level. I don't care about the pain in my head. F*ck it. He doesn't talk, doesn't move. He just looks at me. Observing my scars left on side of my head.

I believe his guilt grows strong in these moments. I believe he hates himself for what he did. Actually, I believe what he wrote me. I believe his words. I can understand how people begin to hate their existence. That they feel trapped in this inhumane world. Without an exit. Without a chance to gain more life. And with every passing second, we die brick by brick. And with every brick, our anger and wrath becomes stronger and gets a hold of us. We begin to see the world in its true nature.Violent. Awful. Dark. Alone.

I look at him. His old face. His sorrow eyes. F*ck what I believe. F*ck his sorrows and F*ck his life. He made me into a monster. Made me miserable. Made me hate whoever I meet. I want to rip his heart from his chest and watch him die slowly.

"I see you made up your mind?"

"Yes, I truly did. I read your f*cking letter. I read your story. About the wife, the kid and your f*cking life. I was sitting in my room, alone, while reading it. Your words in my mind. Your empty life. The need to find something worth living for. But you had all that was worth living for. A wife, a kid and a job. Your parents loved you. But it wasn't enough it seemed. You still started to fade away. Your life f*cking with your brain. The thing you were looking for was within you. Your soul. But the sad fact is you burned your f*cking soul that night you killed me. You can't redeem it. Your soul is f*cking gone."

"It's not true. I redeemed myself. Just like I wrote you. The evil things people are able to do disgust me now. I do not exclude myself. I know I was able to do it. I couldn't save you. I couldn't get there fast enough. I hurt you I know but I can't change that. I can't go back in time and undo the sins I committed. I know I was wrong. Truly wrong. But I needed to find out what I was. A monster? A human being? Or are the two interchangeable nowadays? Are we all monsters now? I was able to answer that question for myself after that night. I was human. I am human! I am alive and I am life."

"You're not. F*ck life! And you know why? You don't have a life! You stole it from me and now pretend it is yours! That night we switched places. You didn't gain anything. You just stole from me! I became you and you became me. You started to love the life you have. You started to love your wife and became a part of your daughter's life. You loved what you became! But you f*cking took that from me! Me! Me! Me! I was that person! I loved my life! I loved my parents and they loved me! I loved my husband and He loved me! And you f*cking took that! Sh*t! You took it! Now, after that night, they don't love me anymore! My parents don't love me anymore! My husband doesn't love me anymore! My friends don't care anymore! I hate me. I hate what I became! I became whatever the f*ck you were before that night!"

I stand before him. I throw the words into the air. I spit fire. I hate. I hate. I hate! Him. Him. Him! And he just sits there. He looks at me. He knows how I feel. He knows why I am here. Is he OK with that? F*ck! F*ck! F*ck!

"I know I did you wrong. I am truly sorry for what I did. I want to make it up to you! I want to make it right! I will do whatever you want me to do. I am begging you! I love my life, my wife and my daughter. I don't want her to be fatherless and my wife to be a widow!"

Tears roll down his painted cheeks. He really doesn't want to die. Unfortunately for him, I want him to die! He must suffer! I want him to die in this chair, in this room, in this house, in this world. Like I did. I want to get my life back. I want justice!

"Please, killing me will not make your life better, my friend! It will bring you down even more. It will kill you all over again. Taking someone's life is a horrible thing. Trust me! You will not become what you were. You will isolate yourself even more!"

" F*ck you! F*ck you, you goddamn motherf*cker! Do not tell me what to do! You think you have the right to give orders? Advice? On life? On my f*cking life? You took this life remember? Now it's my turn. My turn to take your f*cking life. You remember where you left me lifeless. You left me night after night in that bed. Where was you? But wait oh!! Yes you say you was there by my side watching over me. But yet you let him take me out? You let the voices in my head take over. Its your fault!! I want my life back!! Soul for a Soul its time to take yours!!

"Please don't!"

He sobs. He begins to fear for his life, like I did many months ago.

"I know you don't want to shoot me! I know it is not in you. You are still the person you were. Your parents still love you. Maybe they love you even more! Please trust me on this, my friend!"

"I am not your f*cking friend! I was never your friend and will never be!"

"Still. You are my friend because you gave me my life back and you involuntarily sacrificed a lot for it. I know that! I really do! I know I am guilty of that! But there is still a chance for us. Please forgive me! Forgive me for my deeds and maybe you will gain a new perspective on life again. There is a lot to live for!"

"There is no use in you begging, trust me! No f*cking use! Like I did that night! And I didn't survive. You still didn't protect me. I don't forget that. I f*cking can't. I can't go back to that life! I can't close my eyes and chose to forget. I need justice! I need it! F*cking now!"

I walk towards him with great pace. I bury my fists in his face. I smash it. My knuckles bounce against his exterior. I punch his ribs, they break. Seconds later I go back a step. The tied body moves slowly. Heavy breathing. I can feel the blood stains on my hands. I feel the justice breathing through my body. I adsorb all of the basement's characteristics. This is the place where I was killed and where I was reborn. This is where I live and die. I hold out my hands, looking at the blood from his painted face. The scars ache.
He spits blood on the floor. A tooth or two fall out. His hands and feet are still tied to the chair. On the wooden floor are the scratch marks of the chair legs. My explosion of violence shook him up quite a bit. His painted face bleeds.

"You will find no justice... you will find no peace. It will haunt you for eternity, and beyond. You will be alone all your life, my friend. Alone. And then you will die. Alone. There is no justice for you, no redemption, no vengeance. You will merely find oblivion!"

His tired eyes cut right through me. His heavy breathing shakes the ground I stand on. His fear for life is sincere. What he gained, I lost. What he became, I lost. My identity is gone. It died that night. It went to slumber and never awoke. I am dead. There is no justice for me, he says. There is only oblivion, he says. I walk through the room, to the other side towards the table. Cloth. Knife. Gun. I am tired. I am tired of this. I am tired of this life.

I take the gun in my right hand, with all five fingers. I hold the grip and wrap my index finger around the trigger. Do I feel powerful? Do I feel justified? I look into his eyes. Old. Frightened. He loves life. He loves his wife. He loves his daughter. I hate life. He made me. He turned me inside out. He cut the life out of my chest. He took it from me. There is no f*cking justice! An soul for an soul? I gave mine... where is his? He lost much more a long time ago. The time he lost his desire to pursue his dreams. I walk towards him. I am sad. I feel all the pain.

I point the gun to his painted forehead and press it against it. He shivers, fears and cries. He wants to live. He wants to go on.

"There is no justice for me? There is no way back? There is only oblivion? True. True. True. I am what I became. What you made me. And I am sick of it. I hate this! This f*cking face. This fu*king body. My wrath is endless, as is my pain. But here I am, life itself. Pointing the gun at you, my friend. I gave you life, you took mine. Is it fair? No. Not for sure! But there is nothing to gain here, only to lose. I have no more room in my heart for love. No more room for joy. No more room for smiles. Just f*cking look at me! There is no more room for happiness in this disgusting shell! F*ck! Live your life. Love your daughter and love your wife. Be a good friend. Cherish life. Be what you can. The best you can. Because I can't! There is no more life in me, only oblivion. I am life no more."

He doesn't know what is to happen. I take down my hand. The barrel doesn't point to his face anymore. The gun is still in my hand, the finger still on the trigger. My arm is calm. My arm is calm. I close my eyes, think of all the beautiful images of my life. My parents. My husband. My past. No room for pain, no room for hate. This is where I redeem myself. This is where I find justice. I put the gun to my head.

"Wait!! No Wait!! Don't you still have a life. You still have me. I will be a better man. I will be there for you. I still love you! I love you Alice I love you!!"

Alice opens her eyes looks over at him. Seeing the tears filling up those big eyes as they fall down his face. Trying to reach out to her but still tied up. Alice puts down the gun and walks up to him.

"Love Me? You Love Me? Look at Me!!! She steps to the mirror.