Steven sat relaxing in his living room after a long day at work. He was grateful to have a common last name and that he never mentioned Janelle’s name at work because the last thing he needed was to be associated with such a maniac.
Random memories of her filled his mind, such as the time when she went off on him about not getting what she wanted from their relationship.
“Why did we get married if all you wanted was a friend and a roommate? If you’d just told me upfront what you really wanted, I wouldn't be going through this, and I would have gone into the relationship with a different frame of mind.”
Did he ever really want more with Janelle? Or did he just feel sorry for the situation she was in and feel pressured into getting involved in the first place? It's true that he was never one to feel the need to get laid every other minute, nor did he ever feel he absolutely had to have a child. But the events of the last few years had him rethinking the entire Janelle situation. He wasn't sure what they ever really were, but he knew they were no more of whatever it was. That much he was sure of. He could no longer go on this way and hope that she would be the first to throw in the towel and file for divorce. It just wasn’t going to happen unless someone else swept her off her feet and took care of her, and he doubted this very much. Sticking around was too easy for her. She had a roof over her head even if it wasn't the one she wanted most, and the bills were always paid. Why would she give that up?
Not that he wanted to, but he realized how easy it would have been to have an affair right under Janelle’s nose with her being none the wiser the entire time. She was too unintelligent to catch on, and if she did have any suspicions, the gullible nut would have fallen for any excuse he might have given.
With a weary sigh, he turned on the TV, and there she was. It no longer surprised him how she had become a bit of a celebrity, albeit a negative one, that popped up here, there, and everywhere. Of course, she twisted it around into something it wasn't and considered herself famous when the truth was that she was highly infamous. Janelle really knew how to make the best of a bad situation in some ways, but she sure wasn't making the best of the interview she was subjecting herself to, and he was surprised she would even agree to be interviewed in the first place. Poor naive idiot probably thought she would get some support this way.
Janelle was handcuffed and shackled with a chain wrapped around her midsection as she greeted the tall, slim, dark willowy woman who was to be interviewing her.
“Hi, Janelle,” she said. “Getting much sleep?”
“Sometimes.”
“Face is so round.”
“Huh?”
“Your face is so round.”
“Yeah, jail does that to you,” Janelle said, handling what many would consider a rude insult quite well for one with her kind of temper. People sometimes wondered if she mistook some statements for compliments.
Now seated in her chair with the camera focused on her, Steven could see that indeed it looked as round as a basketball. She looked horrible in general. Her face was round, bloated, old, and haggard-looking. Her eyes were red from lack of sleep, or maybe from tears of self-pity. Her hair hung limply and looked slightly greasy.
“Do you feel you deserve to be in jail?” the woman interviewing Janelle asked.
“No, I don’t,” Janelle stated matter-of-factly without hesitation.
“Why is that? You assaulted people, didn't you?”
“I asked people who were trespassing on my property to leave, and they wouldn't. I then resorted to physical force.”
“And you don't regret that?”
“Not at all.”
“So you're appealing the decision to double your sentence for attacking one of the guards here. Correct?”
“Incorrect. I'm appealing the decision to double my sentence for defending myself against an abusive and corrupt guard that I demanded leave me alone and wouldn't.”
“Has winning a judgment against the website that published your work, as you call it, boosted your confidence when it comes to lawsuits or appeals?”
“Well, first of all, I call it what it is: a journal and a story that I worked on creating. And to answer your question, I don't know that I can say it's influenced my confidence, so to speak. I think that, unfortunately, it all depends on whose side you're on. Naturally, anyone connected to law enforcement is going to side with those who are also connected to law enforcement. However, that doesn't mean I'm going to just sit back and accept various forms of abuse without doing something.”
“Now let's talk about your story,” the interviewer said, making air quotes around the word story. “Do you really think it has any chance of earning you money?”
“I don't know. It hasn't yet been fully edited. I created a rough draft, worked on it for a while, and then I forgot about it, intending to return to it later on and flesh things out, but I just never got around to it.”
“Why did you demand your journal be removed? Were you embarrassed and ashamed to have your personal thoughts, experiences, and fantasies made public?”
“No, it was because they published it without my permission. I'm not ashamed for being human, though. We all have thoughts, experiences, and fantasies.”
“Are you a racist?”
Janelle blinked with surprise. She obviously wasn’t expecting that one.
A smirk crossed Steven’s lips. He knew she was about to be crucified and made a public fool of. He had warned her about the media, insisting that they were never her friend. Why this stupid idiot chose to be interviewed in the first place was beyond his comprehension. They usually started off somewhat pleasant and then they attacked with a vengeance.
Janelle chuckled and said, “I don't hate anyone for their color, but I sure hate some people for their behavior.”
“Oh, okay, do you miss your son?”
“I believe we agreed not to discuss my son up front.”
“Can you just answer that much?”
“No, I cannot. But I could end this interview if you don't change the subject.”
“I just can't help but wonder how you must feel about your son being in the hands of strangers.”
Janelle rose to her feet and cut the interview short. “Okay, I'm done. I should have figured you’d pull this shit on me. You media people can never keep your word any more than cops and lawyers.”
As if wanting to provoke Janelle, a couple of officers, one female and one male, blocked Janelle from stepping further away from her chair as the interviewer fired off one question after another about what kind of twisted person could give up her son. And Janelle, who couldn't stand not to get the last word and have an answer for everything, fired back with “explanations” that turned into one swear word after another.
“Have I ever judged you for anything you've done?” Janelle shouted at the woman.
“I just want to understand how a woman could do that to their own child even if they were never fit to be a mother to begin with.”
“Have a kid and then get too sick to care for it and you might understand. For now, I want to know why people like you are so cruel and lacking in empathy!”
“How do you live with yourself, Janelle? How do you sleep at night?”
Finally, Janelle was led away.
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