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I could see Miss Lawrence beaming in the back of the room. This is the message every teacher loves to hear from an ex-student: study hard, work hard, and the world will open up to you.

But that wasn’t where I was headed.

“Look, I wouldn’t wish the way I am on anyone.” I raised my voice louder, hoping to wake up the two guys with their heads down in the back of the room. “I wish I didn’t know about all the dangers out there. I wish I didn’t know so much about how killers and psychopaths think. I wish I could just enjoy being in college like my friends do. Party-hearty.”

There was a smattering of laughter around the room. When the two sleepers raised their heads, I figured I’d scored a major breakthrough. Either that or they sensed the bell was about to ring.

Now I was racing against the clock, trying to get out everything I was thinking. I’m pretty sure Miss Lawrence understood me. Maybe even a few of the kids, too.

I realized how much more I valued life. I remembered being in eleventh grade like these kids, thinking I was immortal. Death was a word that had no meaning for me. That wasn’t true anymore. Now I knew death intimately.

The bell rang. Most of the kids scrambled out the door without a look in my direction. I couldn’t blame them really. The school was so big it took every one of the ten minutes to get to their next class on time. But a few of the kids solemnly made their way to the front of the room to shake my hand or thank me for coming. Miss Lawrence, too, was effusive in her gratitude: she knew how much I’d revealed that day.

I walked out through the open courtyard, reminiscing about the four years of my life I’d spent in this school as a member of its first graduating class. I passed the corridor where I used to see Jenn standing by her locker . . . the lunchroom where I hung out with my friends . . . and the weight room where I thought I was supplying myself with as much strength as I needed for the future. It was a time of innocence for me, a time before I faced monsters.

The hot, sauna winds of April blew sand in my face once I emerged from the school’s courtyard into the parking lot. Automatically, I began to head toward where my reserved parking space had once been. Realizing my mistake, I smiled and turned back toward the guest spaces in front.

It was time to head home. Mom was making our favorite dinner tonight, spaghetti with meat sauce. I vowed to make an extra effort to be nice to her. I realized now what I’d put her through all these years, what I’d put everyone through. I probably couldn’t change my inquisitive nature, but I intended to make it up to them somehow. If I could just learn from the pain I’d gone through, if only others could learn as well, then maybe it all would have been worth it.

For now, though, most nights before I go to sleep, before I even turn out the light and climb into bed, I hesitate for a moment. There’ve been too many nights during which I awaken suddenly, absolutely convinced Gacy, Dahmer, Manson, Lucas, or Ramirez is standing in my room, watching me sleep. I can see their eyes glowing in the dark—hear their heavy, ragged breathing.

Sometimes I can even hear Gacy taunt me: “Jason . . . Jason . . . wake up and come with me. You can’t hide from me now . . . You won’t escape again.” Then suddenly a pair of blood-soaked hands reach down for my throat, squeezing so hard that I gasp for breath and wake myself up in a cold sweat.

Gacy was certainly right. I haven’t been able to escape him after all. During the days I keep myself as busy as I can. I distract myself with my various projects. I volunteer my time helping others.

It’s at night that there’s no place to hide.

Afterword

by Jeffrey Kottler,

Ph.D.

Even though Jason elected to break off all contact with his “pen pals” for a time after Gacy’s execution, he still remained active refining his methods of interrogation and questioning. Through the next four years of college, he learned everything he could about the psychology of criminal behavior. He built a personal library that