As a boy, Tim had been a nervous soul who had constantly been picked on. Now a decade on – he was still imprisoned in the cocoon of the inhibitions that had woven themselves around him because of the bullying he had received from his peers way back then.
He had come to love his own company best and spent all his time locked away in his cluttered pad. Days of musing passed by with imaginary planning of revenge, but he knew he was too cowardly to face the many who had wounded his soul.
Tim's intentions to act specifically against the offenders had mutated into a general dislike of society. He was planning his action towards a faceless mass. It would all be created around his beloved Oak Wood. This had been a haven for his tortured mind and an escape from the mocking crowd. He had loved to experience the thrill of the noon express speeding along the edge of Oak Wood - but that was some time ago and before he became a fully fledged recluse.
He had decided he would create a catastrophic train crash as a means of vindicating himself against society. It had been in planning for weeks – now it was to be put into operation.
He positioned the metal derailing object on the track where it would have most effect. The impact damage it caused was maximised by the derailed train crashing into stout oaks causing the carriages to concertina into a mass of tangled wreckage.
Bodies had become entangled among the mass of iron and wood. Bloodied escapees were fleeing along the line in terror. A man was cradling a lifeless child and a hysterical woman chased after them with flailing arms. A young man and woman, in bloodstained and tattered clothing, fled holding on to each other.
Tim stood there looking transfixed at what he had done. The scene he had created was horrifying but gave him a profound satisfaction that he had power to spawn such chaotic confusion.
After a while the reality of what he had caused began to dawn on him and he fled from the scene. He deeply regretted what he had created and knew he must confess and share the guilt he felt. He rushed to the only contact person he had, his mother, and confessed to what he had created.
They stood together looking at the painting and he asked what she thought of it. Tim was no mean artist and the crash depiction hanging on his wall looked very realistic. She told him it was obnoxious and he needed the canvas smashing over his head.
Tim took to heart what she had suggested and used it to imaginary effect to expunge memories and exorcise revenge demons from his tortured thoughts about the past. One by one each of the guilty ones had the crash painting smashed over their heads. Sometimes his imagination ran riot and he pictured, in his mind's eye, that it was the actual train crash impacting them.
Strangely, this helped to set him free from the prison he had built around himself. He knew that one day that the finality would be to literally smash it over someone.
He loved his mother and would never harm her (or anyone else for that matter) but the final solution was in his own hands and upon his own head.
The smash of that crash knocked him to his senses!
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