Everyone knew The Misfit and who he was and what he had done. Everyone knew him as the criminal that escaped the Federal Pen, a man who had killed his own father. Lately, however, The Misfit didn’t recognize The Misfit. Something had happened to him, something that he didn’t understand why or when, actually, maybe he knew when, he just didn’t want to admit it.
“It’s no real pleasure in life” he had said to his partners after killing the grandmother. He had to do it, didn’t he? Make sure that neither her nor her family would be able to recognize him and give, the police, a clue as to his whereabouts. But, maybe, he didn’t have to do it. He could’ve just scared them, scared them enough so as to have them not even mention having seen him. But, that wouldn’t have made him justice, that wouldn’t have shown his partners that he is supposed to lead them. “We’re about to go in, Misfit,” Bobby Lee said, cocking his gun. The three of them were going to a
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He fell flat on the floor and the shot’s sound rang in The Misfit’s ears. “It’s no real pleasure in life,” The Misfit thought to himself as he shot back at the policemen, who shot at the three criminals inside the diner after seeing they had killed the boy. Bobby Lee died first, shot in the head. The Misfit could see that one of his gunshots pierced a policeman 's uniform and another hit the head of another one. “It’s no real pleasure in life,” he thought to himself as he saw Hiram dead beside him. The Misfit was the only left, the firing had ceased and a policeman shouted “you’re alone! Give up now!” How could he? He had spent what felt like a lifetime inside s cell, surrounded by walls and a ceiling, trapped. The Misfit turned around and looked at the family, huddled together in a corner, the parents holding their kids