Epiphany.
His hands had stopped shaking, that was the first thing he noticed when he woke up the next morning. For a moment Paul Kersey had been puzzled, why would his hands be shaking?
And then he remembered the confrontation with the mugger on the streets. Ever since his wife and daughter were raped and tortured in their own apartment, Paul had been feeling nothing but a wave of increasing anger and frustration with the city. The whole place was falling apart; muggers, thefts, murders, and rapes were on the rise. The police weren't doing anything to mitigate or stop the incidents from taking place, but Paul had no idea if it was down to being simply overworked or some police officers were being paid off, like in those movies.
But he had started not to care anymore and now Paul's crazy idea of wishing to do something about it only became more appealing. Ever since his family was brutally murdered or tortured so badly it left one of them in catatonic shock and the police not having anything to go on to bring the thuggish animals to justice, Paul had been feeling desperate to do something.
He wished he had been in the apartment at the time of the break-in. He might have been able to stop the worst of it from happening, he might even have distracted the thugs long enough to perhaps allow Joanna and Carol the chance to escape or call the police.
But unfortunately, it hadn't happened. His wife was dead, and he had just buried her with a broken heart and his daughter raped and now catatonic. Paul, furious and heartbroken over what had happened to his family, had recognised the threat the streets represented. He had already known how dangerous they were. Every day he was bombarded with news of muggings, murders, rapes, but he had never seen the need to do anything about any of it.
No longer. Last night Paul had struck back with an improvised weapon; a sock filled with two rolls of quarters inside. He hadn't planned on going on and making a statement by killing muggers. Oh no, he had simply decided to get out into the city armed and prepared. A mugger had attacked him and Paul, instead of backing down, just lashed out against him. He'd had the weapon. He'd used it instinctively. It was just a sock, a pathetic sock you put on your foot every single day to go out, filled with enough quarters and whacked around with enough force to smash teeth, but all it had done was stun the mugger. As soon as the mugger recovered, he had run off and Paul had returned to his apartment, shaken by the encounter. When he had returned to his home, Paul had ripped the sock apart. The floor of his apartment now had quarters scattered everywhere, but he didn't care about that.
Paul Kersey had gone to bed, a shaken man. But even when he had been shaken by the encounter with the mugger, he had realised something important and now as he stood looking down on the city from the window in the master bedroom of the apartment, the thought was still there.
The mugger had run away from him because he had fought back. The man had been living rough, forced to scrounge around on the streets and robbing anyone he met, or who he saw as an attractive target; Paul could understand that, and he could easily see that he himself could be forced to hold knives to people's throat to demand cash. So he could understand why the mugger had run off as soon as he had registered the smack to his face with the crude weapon and worked out his target was willing to fight back.
And that was the key. As long as the mugger thought their victim was not going to fight back they would feel empowered enough to steal from their victim. But if their victim fought back against them, like Paul had the night before, then they would just run away. This new knowledge wasn't much for Paul. He had gone out with a sock filled with quarters, but it wasn't an ideal weapon when they had knives or guns.
But while he had been out there, Paul had not only gained an epiphany and an understanding over muggers in general, but he had gained an epiphany on himself. Paul had actually enjoyed what he had done last night, even if he had only just been smacking a mugger in the face while he'd been walking down the street. At the time Paul hadn't registered the enjoyment, but now he was looking down at the city from the window of his bedroom, he realised he had truly enjoyed it when he had smacked the mugger in the face. The man had likely not been involved in what had happened to his family, although Paul was uncertain about that. Given the size of the city and the lack of any witnesses to what happened, Paul doubted sincerely he would ever find the bastards responsible for what happened to Carol and Joanna.
But when he had struck that mugger, Paul realised he could do something, but did he really want to?
Author's Note - When I first saw the scene where Paul struck that mugger in the face with the improvised weapon, I could see the realisation on his face as he realised the mugger was not willing to fight against someone who could and would fight back and it inspired me here.