“Mr. Porter, you will pay.” Then like fingernails scratching on a blackboard he gave a horrible snicker. With that he was gone. Mr. Porter knew Victor was innocuous to him. He was going to be in jail for the next twenty years and didn’t look like a man of much tenacity. Yet, Mr. Porter still felt a bit shocked. “Mr. Porter, Mr. Porter?” said the judge. “Yes, yes, sorry your honor. I’ll be on my way.” On his way home, Mr. Porter stopped to pick up shampoo. A request his wife had made. The words, you will pay echoed through his mind. He turned on the radio and tried not to think about it for the rest of his drive. He arrived home late that night, so of course he was very tired. He kissed his wife goodnight and headed off to bed. He lay down, and within a matter of seconds Mr. William Porter was fast asleep. After a very restless night, and a horrid dream, he woke up for his morning coffee. A very drowsy Mr. Porter did not realize until now that he woke up alone in his bed. His wife must have gone on an early morning run, he thought. He reached up to scratch his chin and felt the sprout of a goatee. “Karen will not like this,” he said out loud on his way to the bathroom. He turned to grab his razor and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and saw gray hair. “Karen will not like that either! That wasn’t there last night.” He reached for his razor. He finished up and decided to take a hot shower. “What! Out of shampoo already? I picked some up just yesterday.” He was so tired last night, maybe it had spilled in the car and he didn’t notice. He got out of the shower and decided to give his wife a call. He was getting a bit worried and wanted to talk to her. No answer. “I hope she isn’t hurt,” he thought. He shook it off. “She can take care of herself.” He lay down to relax and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep. His body and mind was still very exhausted from the events with Dr. Jason the night before. After a very nice, long nap he awoke with wide eyes. The clock in front of him read 3:00 p.m. He slothishly tore himself off of the couch until his toes reached the soft carpet. “Honey,” he yelled. No answer.
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