Walking in the night.

There were only three directions for someone to go after leaving the Marshall household, unless the person in question had a boat. If they had a boat, they could go set sail to just about anywhere on the east coast. Leon didn't have a boat, and was still so pissed off that he'd probably crash it into something even if he did.

Which meant he could do one of three things. One: Walk over the bridge Ophelia frequently sat under and cross over to the Island, but a loud, drunken playground sounded like a terrible place to be, so that was out. Two: Keep walking, pass the bridge without crossing it, and head off towards Pensacola. He'd have plenty of peace and quiet out that way. On one side of the road was the ocean, and on the other side was a forest. Not many people out there to bother him. It would have been perfect, except that he actually wanted people around. Nothing like the Island, but somewhere he could think things through while still being accountable for his actions. Who knew what he might do alone on a dark road?

Option three was the winner then. There was a 24/hr coffee shop off in the opposite direction of the bridge, halfway between the Marshall house and the Breeze Cinema. At this time on a Tuesday night it would probably be nearly empty except for the barista.

Leon walked, but he did not walk alone. The fury followed like a thing alive.

I used to be so proud, bragging to other kids about how cool my Dad was for traveling around all over the world. Cruise ship director was synonymous with hero, as far as I was concerned, until I found out my hero was a ****.

He pictured the loving father who always came to his room to tuck him in first. That man always came in with a big smile on his face that banished away all the things that might go bump in the night. Sleep came easier when that man was home, until age took away his fear of the dark.

There’s a reason he always tucked ME in first, and that smile of his was- UGH! The leering smile of a monster on its way to gobble up my little sister.

Every good memory of that man turned to smoke and evaporated, replaced with the sinister truth of what had been done to Jessie.

Jessie... good god. It was a miracle that she could even wake up in the morning and face the day. All those nights when he lay awake excited for that man’s return the the following morning must have been anxiety riddled panic attacks for her.

He should have stayed with her, but cuddling with her would only make him angrier, because that man’s shadow looked over her like guillotine. Always primed to drop, a reminder that she wasn’t free of him. A reminder to him as much as it was to her, and one that warded off the tender feelings she deserved from him.

What about their mom? Jessie didn’t go into detail, but she heavily implied that Mom knew what was happening. Did she condone it? Encourage it? For all he knew, she’d participated in the debauchery herself.

His parents were demons, Jessie was a wayward angel without a safe place to return to... so what did that make him? Hadn’t he told Cammy he wanted to be the hero? Protect his models from pain and tragedy?

I’m no hero. If anything, I’m the Fool in this tragedy. A fool who spent far too many years dancing to the beat of my own drum.

By the time he arrived at the coffee house, he felt less like a ticking time bomb, but no more closer to acceptance of the situation than he’d been when he left the house.

On his approach, he noted a lone woman sitting in the window, staring at something in the distance. He looked towards where her eyes were focused, but saw nothing there. A whim compelled him to take a picture of her even though he wasn’t really in the mood for photography.

Arlette Bourdin, 52, Rank 0, Happiness: 50

Neither happy nor particularly unhappy. That seemed a little anomalous, but he hadn’t had the power long enough to know for sure.

Leon never intended to register Arlette. She was way out of his strike zone, and not miserable enough to compel him to intervene in her life. Yet, his finger pressed [Yes] for a reason he didn’t quite comprehend.