Yup. Another one shot - because I'm bored and unlike Jim, I'm too nice to kill people when I'm bored. However, this is just my view on how Jim might view his murdering of one Carl Powers. It is a one-shot I suppose, and rather morbid - for me, at least. :P
Everybody dies. From the moment we are born, a clock starts to tick; counting down just how long we have left. It could be years, months, weeks, days. It could be mere seconds… Death is the shadow that stalks the living, waiting until he can take what is rightfully his. He acts as God and the Devil in one, taking the lives of those he pleases, stealing them from the world as quickly and simply as blowing out a candle, turning light into darkness.
Jim Moriarty has always had a morbid fascination with death. It amuses him to spend his days sitting in the classroom and imagining all the ways he could dispose of the people he didn't like. In his mind, Jim is death; he is the shadow that people think they see out of the corner of their eye, the footsteps heard behind you as you walk through the darkened streets, certain that someone is following you. He's untraceable, just like a shadow.
Jim thinks about this as he takes his seat up in the stands, his eyes roaming the crowd that has assembled here today. They've all come to watch Carl Powers take part in the swimming race championship. Jim has come to watch too but unlike everyone else, he hasn't come to watch Carl win. Jim is sick of Carl winning, he's sick of Carl always having the upper hand and thinking that he can push him around. He's sick of Carl laughing at him, making fun of him for his height, his clothes and mostly his ability to point out what, although is fairly obvious to Jim, goes missed or is ignored by others. It was for this reason that Jim had decided he'd had enough. He no longer wanted to hear Carl's taunts and laughter. He didn't want to see Carl's smirk ever again and so, he would stop him laughing, he would make Carl Powers disappear.
Jim is rather proud of his work when the poison takes effect and Carl begins to thrash in the water. He reminds Jim of the pet Goldfish he'd once had. Jim, being only a young child at the time, had felt sympathy towards the fish who had nothing to do but swim around in circles in the small fish bowl his father had said he could keep it in. Jim understood what it was like to be bored and so he had reached into the bowl to take the fish out. He had learned that day that, without water, his Goldfish was only able to survive in the open air for an average of fifteen minutes. It was surprising how long the tiny fish had lasted, flopping about on the palm of Jim's hand and Jim realized shortly after that from when he had taken the fish out of the bowl up until the small creature had gone still in his hand, he hadn't been bored and he was certain that, no matter how short the memory span of a Goldfish was, his pet hadn't been bored either.
However, unlike his Goldfish, Carl can't breathe under water, he needs oxygen and unlike his Goldfish, Carl doesn't even last five minutes and Jim watches as the panic that had echoed around the room slows to a silent stop. Death has been and death, just like Jim who was slowly making his way in the direction of the locker rooms, had gone.
It takes Jim only a matter of seconds to open Carl's locker, retrieve the shoes and carefully leave things as they had been. He is untraceable, just like a shadow, just like death. Everybody dies, he tells himself again although he isn't trying to comfort himself -Jim feels no guilt for what he has just done – he is merely stating fact. People die, it's what they do and if Jim had to be completely honest with himself, there was nothing worse than being bored, not even death. After all, it was staying alive that was the problem.
He leaves the pool with an overwhelming sense of pride and satisfaction. He's finally put a stop to Carl Power's laughing and now it's his turn to laugh.