David Vann - Last Day on Earth - A Portrait of the NIU School Shooter

Later that night, Steve writes Susan an email, parts of which are meant to instruct: “Susan, I just wanted to let you know that I’m actually quite relieved knowing that things will never change with you, as it is clear that you do not want a change; only negativity and drama. I will leave you to your own narrow perception of the world, and wish you the best of luck without holding any ill will towards you. With that being said, I really need to let you know that I’m often shocked and appalled by your disrespect towards me, and always am disgusted by the way you talk to me. It’s funny, because I’ve received more respect from hardened gang-bangers when I was in the group home. You are without a doubt the most rude and disrespectful person I have ever known, and it is unfortunate that you don’t even realize it. In fact, I’m shocked that we are even from the same family, because we couldn’t be more different. I mean, when you talk trash about me to your friends on the phone, simply for politely asking if you could drive to the movies, I know that we are not family; because family wouldn’t treat each other in that fashion. Talking to you is analogous to walking over a mine field, and I was always constantly on eggshells when around you, for fear that I would say something that would trigger some negative reaction from you. What’s most disturbing to me is that you don’t see these issues at all and are therefore not getting the help you need. Even if ignorance is bliss, something has to give, Susan. Now don’t get me wrong. I am far from perfect, and have never claimed to be. Perhaps I’m the most flawed human being in the world but that is irrelevant. The bottom line is that you need to accept responsibility for your actions and attitude.”

Hints of Jigsaw, trying to teach Susan, letting her know she needs to help herself, just as Jigsaw makes his victims help themselves, whether that means crawling through razor wire, stabbing out their own eyes, or jumping into a pit of syringes. “Save as I save,” Jigsaw says. “Judge as I judge.” The flesh of no consequence.

“This is not about me at all,” Steve continues in his email to Susan, “but rather deals with issues that you have ignored for too long. I really feel as though you have a lot of pent up hatred towards me due to our childhood, which is something that you need to seek professional help for. I am being serious and direct when I say this to you, Susan. There is obviously something seriously wrong when you feel the need to scream and yell at me for the most minor of things. I know a great deal of attention by our parents was diverted from you to myself when I was going through some rough times, and I often think you have issues with hostility, jealousy and self-worth, even today. Please don’t take any of this the wrong way, as I’m just telling it like it is.

“Honestly, I think you need to sit back and re-evaluate your life, attitude, and the way in which you treat people. You are a mean and cruel person, and even if you surround yourself with dozens of superficial (and somewhat token) friends, you will still be that same person, no matter how obfuscated you wish your character traits to be. This can change over time, and I hope for your sake that it does. With that being said, I don’t wish to be around you or converse with you any more than is necessary to conduct the business of the family, (i.e. at funerals and such). I really don’t want anything to do with you at all. I don’t need this stress in my life, and I’m amazed that even though I grew up over the years, you are still stuck as a petty and thoughtless person, trying to compensate for your inadequacies by disrespecting and belittling others around you. I can no longer even fake wanting to try to make amends with you or to make an effort to ‘hang-out’ with you, because I truly do not see the point when you are such an awful person to be around. I hope that you will eventually learn to be at peace with yourself and with those around you, even if it takes a great deal of time. Please feel free to save this email and to show it off to your partner, friends, and family members to curry sympathy and a shoulder to cry on. Play them for the fools that they are for buying into your melodramatic bullshit, because I am done with you. Good luck to you in the future Susan and I hope that you find whatever it is you are looking for in life.”

Steve always lies awake from midnight until 2:30 or 3:00 a.m., so he has hours to mull everything over, to replay this email and all his rage at his sister, bottled up in his awkward formality and self-righteousness, but tonight, to make things worse, he wakes up at 4:30 a.m. He checks that the door is locked. The stove, too, checks that it’s off, checks the fridge.

Then he checks his email and finds that he has a long one from Kelly. She calls him “oh-so-old-and-wise-one” because he has written to her that “No one’s life turns out exactly the way they want it to, and it’s just part of the human condition to want more for oneself.” He confesses to her: “With respect to being wise, I am far from it, and if anything, I have realized how much little I know over the last few years of college, (yes, that’s probably a totally improper use of commas, but I’m tired lol). What is the perfect, most immaculate life attainable by someone?” The word immaculate must reach back somehow to his mother, to that Catholic upbringing. Interesting that it shows up now when he tries to talk about happiness, and that he goes immediately to family. “The ideal type (of family) is a farce in itself due to the (somewhat) superficial view that normal, fully functioning families exist. I know, I know. . let the cynicism abound!:-) I mention family when I talk with others and say that they are doing fine, but the truth is I really don’t have much of a family. My justification is that I don’t want to ever let people know this about me so they don’t think I’m strange. It’s rare that I even see members of my family. I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this, but it’s 4:45 a.m., so. . let me rant about how fantastic SAW 4 is! My sister didn’t end up going tonight. For Karma’s sake, I gave somebody in line the free ticket to save them circa $8.00, lol.”

The same day Steve found Kelly on Craigslist, he also found “Heather.” Her photos don’t show her face. Only her body, in lingerie. He meets her on October 27, the day after SAW 4, at a bar in Champaign called Phoenix, along with her sister and friends. “I usually don’t drink,” he tells her, which is true. He’s currently on Celexa, after the Prozac didn’t work, and Xanax and Ambien. But he has two white Russians. He and Heather split off from the group to another bar, the B DUB, then go to a hotel, the Econo Lodge. It’s right off the freeway, the “crack and ho” section of town. They have sex. In the morning he’s a gentleman, buys coffee and cigarettes.

Steve confesses everything to Jessica. He calls her at work, tells her he’s not gay, then she comes home to find him a puddle of tears on the carpet. He’s sobbing that she was here all along, and why couldn’t he see that? He tells her about the male professor, about sex with three or four women.

He sees Heather again on October 30. Drives to where she lives, in Mattoon, Illinois, and brings a dozen roses and a couple movies. Snakes on a Plane and Mr. Brooks , about a good man who’s actually a killer, carefully planning everything. She’s not feeling well, though, so they don’t have sex.

Halloween 2007.

Steve stands in his bedroom dressed all in black, with white gloves. The mask presides over his room, set carefully on top of his bookshelves, centered. Whited face, black hair, red eyes, red lips, like Marilyn Manson, but this is Billy the Puppet, a stand-in for the sadistic killer-narrator from the SAW movies. An old face, protruding cheeks and nose and chin, sunken folds between. A masculinized witch with red target circles on his cheeks. A clown, almost.