"You know why I became a cop? Hell, I always say it's 'cause it's the only job I could get, fresh outta high school, makin' thirty thousand a year, but it's more than that.
My father was a fuckin' rapist - a murderer - and an overall asshole. I wanted to stop people like him. Bastard's last wish was to see me before he died. He fuckin' got it, and know what he said to me? He said all these years he hoped I'd kill myself, 'cause he didn't want a faggot for a son. He said he raped and murdered my girlfriend as a teenager because "I couldn't give her what she deserved." He raped my fuckin' sister and beat my ma', too. He had more than a few fuckin' screws loose.
I was just a teenager. I'd grown up watching my old man push my mom around, and I knew he raped my older sister. I knew my girlfriend, Monica, - she and I were sixteen at the time - was afraid. I knew there was something she wouldn't tell me, she didn't like to show her weaknesses - its part of why I loved her; she was so strong. I exercised for hours, every day, to make sure I could protect her, my mom and my sister from anything and everything. I thought I could be a hero.
One day, I was still workin' out - the usual routine. I was running, all throughout the city. I forgot Monica said she'd pick me up, an hour earlier. One Hour. I left her alone for one fuckin' hour, and she died because of my stupidity. I was so eager to protect her from everything, but I'd forgotten about that bastard father of mine. How could I forget it...?
When I came home, the house was empty, the garage door was open. Monica was naked, all bathed in blood. Dead. I froze. I wanted to get to her, I wanted to help her, but I couldn't move a muscle. I knew she was gone, but I couldn't believe it. That... image of her body like that's been in my head for years. Years. Even after everything I've been through during my twenty-two years as a cop.
I killed her as much as my father did. At least that's what I always told myself. And my ma' and sister? I hated myself, for letting it happen to them. They didn't deserve it. Neither did Monica. Neither do any other victims out there. So I spend my time, now, putting those fuckers behind bars. No other kid should live with the guilt I've lived with. No murdering rapist should be allowed to walk the streets, either.
Hell, I know I made a difference, just by putting my old man behind bars. But, it's still not enough. And, I'm not stopping 'til I get six stripes. Or 'til one of the 'bad guys' put a bullet in my head - whichever comes first."