More years passed as he devoted his life to his job, wife, and newborn son. All was going better than he could ever have imagined. Larry had never once during his career, doubted justice. Why would he? That belief carried him to his dream job, carried him to his wife, and carried him through life. It had treated him well, and he served it faithfully. It is a dark day when one such as Larry loses his faith.
After a hard day of work, Larry was ready to go home. It was already dark out as the car pulled up the driveway. He was so exhausted as he walked through the door, he did not notice that all the lights were off. Did not wonder why there was such a mess as he made his way to the bedroom. Larry opened the door but only took a step inside before he saw her. His stomach twisted as he slowly moved toward his wife. Kneeling, he rolled her naked body over and looked directly into her eyes. Glazed over, full of a look he had seen many times on the job. Feeling for a pulse, though quite futile. She was dead. Her throat slit open. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a pillow. Something out of place about it. Why, if it was on the floor, would it be raised slightly? Larry moved a trembling hand toward the pillow and lifted it up slowly. He swallowed hard so as not to vomit. He reached over lifting his suffocated son in his arm and brought his dead wife's head in his other. Through his tears he felt something. They were still warm.
A sound of shattering glass came from outside the window. He lay his slain wife and child down and rushed toward the window. He looked down to see a broken pot and a shadow rushing away. Larry knew it was him. Without a second thought he leapt out the window. With a twisted ankle he pursued the shadow.
Through yards and alleys, across busy streets Larry chased it. The shadow wasn't slowing down but Larry was driven to catch it. Finally a break. The shadow took a turn into a closed alley. They stood facing each other. Neither talking, just staring at each other. The shadow clenched his fists and Larry knew he was in for a fight.
The shadow lunged at him and threw a punch. Larry caught his arm and hip tossed the shadow to the ground. He was getting ready to end the fight when the shadow cracked a glass bottle over his head. Larry staggered back fighting back the pain, trying to retain consciousness. Seeing this, the shadow pushed him against a wall, grabbed his collar, and brought the broken bottle back. A chance for one last effort. Larry grabbed the shadow's hand and quickly thumb locked him. The shadow fell to one knee and grasped at Larry's hand to try and free himself. Larry planted his knee to the shadow's nose and knocked him back. He climbed on the shadow and brought the broken glass bottle to his throat.
Images of his wife and son urged him to do it. His knuckles turned white as he clenched the neck of the bottle. Then, he threw the bottle to the ground. He had believed in the system of justice, so he would let justice handle this. Larry brought the shadow to its feet and escorted him to the police department.
The trial ended almost as quickly as it had started. There was no solid evidence to prove that the man did anything, only Larry's testimony. No witnesses, weapon, DNA, anything. For failing to identify himself as an officer, he couldn't even get him for assaulting an officer. The man got off scot-free. For now.
The man had just arrived home. Upon closing the door a light came on behind him he turned around to see Larry holding a gun pointed right at him.
"Wait. You're a cop!"
Larry thought, he had devoted his life to justice, believed eternally that it would always succeed. Justice had betrayed him. Now, the only true justice is that which you attain with your own hands.
"I was a cop."
Bang.