Letter to the Predator

It was 3:30 a.m. My brain would not stop its thinking processes. The circular argument of supported finding versus unsupported finding, evidence or opinion continued to scream its awareness into my desire for sleep. I had not had a full undisturbed eight hours of sleep in twenty years. Well, not without double digits of melatonin milligrams. I do my best thinking when my thinking doesn't stop.

I was tired of watching one child abuser after another get little to no consequence for destroying the futures of so many innocent victims. I felt more and more infuriated after learning a case investigated with solid evidence had charges negotiated and pled down to little or no jail time.

Child abuse in Utah is a misdemeanor. Animal abuse is a felony. Every case a CPS worker in this state gets starts out at a disadvantage to the victim, with the perpetrator given a head start to reoffend. CPS caseworkers and law enforcement officers work together to protect these children, only to have our state targeted by sex traffickers and child abusers because they know that if they get caught, the chances of a light-to-no sentence are a reality.

After grabbing my phone and allowing the blue light to reawaken my eyes from what my brain was already fighting against, I jotted down this little number. I immediately felt resolved. After thirty minutes of finger fighting the small keyboard on my phone, the result was the warning I wanted. No I needed... every predator to know. I was coming, and I was coming for them. And if I couldn't sleep, they shouldn't think they could either.