I sigh and take a sip of my coffee. Ugh. Its cold. I have no idea what to do at the moment, my paperwork is done, nothing reported. I start to think about all of the kids, and all of the woman who were violated. It makes me sick to my stomach. How? How could all of those perverts do it and live?

I want nothing more than to punish all of them, the rapists, and the child molesters. They are sick. Sick in every way possible. What kind of monster would do it? Why? Each and every case gets to you. Details of crimes unimaginable, are stuck in the heads of me and my co-workers.

Most people wonder how I could do this job, so little money, crappy hours, and the nightmares.

Ah yes the nightmares, the victims face, the crime scene, the torn clothes, its disgusting what people can do to others. God, sometimes I wonder if there is a god. I mean what kind of god would let all of this happen? God, if you are out there, please send me memo. But on the other hand, what kind of god wouldn't let all the good things happen? I guess people are just evil. Some people.

I sigh again. I wonder what makes them do it. I toss the cold coffee in the garbage, and stare at it.

Rapists, they treat their victims like trash, like they are worthless, like they have nothing to live for. How?

My stare wanders to a drawer of my desk, where I hide it. I hear it call me every time I lose a perp to freedom. I reach my hand out and grasp the handle, I then think of all the victims, the children, and us. Us, ha, like we make a difference. But then again, we help our victims cope, and send they're rapists to prison. Then it hits me, why the hell do we do it? Because. Because someone has to, someone has to fight for the law. Rapists are evil people, who we send to prison.

I let go of the handle and slowly pull my hand away. I cant give up now, I just cant.

I get out of my chair and walk around the desk. I open the door to the squad room and my detectives look up and smile, a little confused why I'm smiling, I just stand there and stare.

After a few seconds I go back into my office and sit down. I sigh yet again. My eyes fall back onto the drawer, where I hide it.

I quickly tear my eyes away and stare at the door. But once again my eyes are on the drawer, where I hide it. I open the drawer and pull it out. The glass is smooth, and it shines with temptation. I have this huge urge to pop off the cap and down it. But I refuse, instead I take the bottle and open it, pour it into my metal trash can and toss the bottle in with it.

I Donald Cragen, have resisted temptation once more. And I am proud of it.