Chapter 8 chapter eight

When I was fourteen, I went camping with my adoptive father to South Florida, where the starry sky is more beautiful than anywhere.Although he was just my adoptive father, although the sky full of stars gave me a sense of satisfaction, the emotion was another matter entirely. The bonfire gradually died down, the sky was full of stars, and the lovely foster father drank in silence until he drank the whole bottle.If he had anything to say, now is the time. "You're different, Dexter," said the adoptive father, resolute, melancholy, and a little lost. "What do you mean by that, Pa?"

"According to the Billups, their dog is missing," he didn't look at me, just talking in circles. "That little guy is so annoying. He screams all night, so loud that Mom can't sleep." Of course, mom has to sleep.Her cancer is terminal and needs plenty of sleep.But that nasty puppy across the street kept barking, and Mom couldn't sleep at all. "I found the dog's grave," Harry said. "There's a lot of bones in there, Dexter. It's not just the dog's." Not knowing what to say, I carefully grabbed a handful of pine needles and waited for Harry to continue.

"How long have you been doing this?" "It's been a year and a half," I said, not wanting to lie to him, "I'm just... kind of involuntary," and I was tactful despite my young age. "Did you hear a voice? Something or someone telling you what to do, and you had to obey?" "Well," my fourteen-year-old self said sharply, "not exactly. I felt something, watching me in my heart. Probably. But it wasn't the sound, it was just—" At this point, I did a boy's usual shrug.Harry understood what that meant. "This kind of thing makes you want to kill."

"No, eh, it didn't directly make me think that, it just—made me think it was a good idea?" "Have you thought about killing anything else? Something bigger than a dog?" I tried to answer him, but something blocked my throat.I cleared my throat. "Think about it," I said. "Murder?" "Not sure about anyone, Dad. It's just—" I shrugged again. "Why didn't you think about it?" "I think you'd be upset if you found out. You, and Mom." "Is that why you didn't do anything?" "Oh—I don't want you, oh, to be angry with me, to disappoint you."

I stole a glance at Harry, who was looking at me unblinkingly. "Is that why you took me on a trip, just to talk about this?" I asked tentatively. "Yes, we have to prepare you for the rest of your life." Get ready for the rest of your life, oh yeah, that's the whole Harry way of looking at life.I knew even then that if I harbored a murderous intention in my heart, it would hinder my preparation for the rest of my life. "How?" I asked him, and he stared hard at me for a long time, until he saw that I was listening intently, and he nodded. "Good boy," he said. "it's time."

It took a long time after he said this before he continued speaking. "I'm old, Dexter. People see things differently when they're old, and it's not just that they become more gentle. When you're young, you see things in black and white, but when you're old, you go into black and white. Dark gray areas. I do believe I see things differently now, more accurately than before." He looked at me, that typical Harry look.The blue eyes are full of perseverance and kindness. "Ten years ago I was going to send you to an asylum, and now I've changed my mind. I know you, and I know you're a good boy."

"No," I said, my voice soft and weak, but Harry heard it anyway. "Yes, you're a good boy, Dexter. Otherwise, you wouldn't care what I think, and your mother. I know that. Because—" He stopped there, just staring stared at me for a moment. "What do you remember from the past? You know what I said, before we adopted you." Once again I felt my pride was hurt and I didn't know anything.I was only three years old then. "I don't really remember anything." "No one should remember those things. But, Dexter, even if you don't, it still has an impact on you, and it shaped your personality as a child. It took a lot of effort to think Help you correct it, but that power is too stubborn, too strong, it gets into your bone marrow prematurely, and it will stay with you for life. It will make you have murderous thoughts, and you just can't help it. You can't Change it. You can direct it, though. Control it. You can choose—" Every word he said was carefully chosen, and I've never heard him speak so carefully. "—You can choose the... thing... or person to kill... Dexter, there are many people in this world who deserve to die..."

Those last few words shaped my whole life, everything about me, my personality and my character.Harry, the good man who can see everything and know everything.my dad. How much I would love Harry if I were capable of love! That was a long time ago.Harry has been dead for many years, but his teachings live on.It wasn't because I had such a warm, fervent feeling for him, it was because Harry was right.This has been proven time and time again by me.Harry knew a lot and he taught me everything. Harry taught me how to be careful.This is simply the police teaching the murderer. Carefully choose those who deserve it.Just make sure nothing goes wrong.Clean up afterwards.Do not leave any traces.Absolutely avoid personal emotions that can lead you to make mistakes.Of course, caution goes far beyond specific killings.Being cautious also means building a cautious life, knowing how to distinguish different people, how to interact with various people, and how to imitate life.

All this I do with great care.I constructed a hologram of perfection, my life was beyond reproach, and even Deborah was half-shadowed by my half-truths.Right now she's trusting me to help her solve these murders, give her a boost in her career, and help her shed her sexy Hollywood movie whore outfit and put her in a well-tailored uniform.She is right.I can indeed help her.It’s not on my own volition, though, because I enjoy watching a killer kill so that I can appreciate some aesthetic connection between him and me, or— Emotional involvement. Well, here I am, in clear violation of Harry's rules.

When I turned the boat back into the canal, it was dark.So be it.Harry is always right.At the moment he is also right.Don't get involved in personal emotions, that's what Harry said back then.So I decided not to get involved with my emotions. I'm going to help Deborah.