The end has finally come, and I welcome the relief. The doctors have been
keeping a close eye on me for years now, but they can’t stop the inevitable.
I have a DNR, and nobody lives forever. I don’t remember how I ended up in
this institution, but it was definitely against my will. They keep me
drugged up so I can’t think straight, let alone move fast enough to get out
of this place. It’s been such sorrowful torture. I would protest against
them, but I just don’t have the energy anymore, and haven’t for a very long
time. They know this about me. They do that on purpose. They took away my
free will, because if I had a voice, people might actually listen to what I
have to say. But they can’t have that. No, far be it for me to speak my
mind. I’m a crazy person, who no one cares about. I had someone who cared
about me, but they took him away. Not the same people, technically, mind
you, but close enough. Anybody who works for the institutions of this
country, and promotes the oppression of the masses, might as well just be
one evil man. I can’t wait to get the hell out of here, and I am well aware
that the only way that happens is in a bodybag. The time has almost come;
what I’ve been yearning for. This won’t be the first time that I died. I
tried to kill myself a few years ago. My son got into an awful mess, and
ended up being murdered by a cop. I was foolish to have made my attempt on
the day the charity organization would come to deliver meals. He was the
only person who ever gave a damn about me, and now he’s gone. What do I have
to live for but him? Now this cough has taken me down my final path, and
I’ve been letting it happen. They can’t keep me locked up forever, no sir.
Now it’s just a waiting game.
I reflect on the decades behind me. They say that your life flashes before
your eyes, but maybe that doesn’t always happen automatically. Maybe I have
to force it, and expedite the process. I’ll take any advantage I can get. I
did my best raising my child, but I could only do so much without his
terrible father. Sure, he was the one paying for everything, so I didn’t
have to work, but he should have been there. He should have helped teach our
son how to be a man. I don’t know how to be a man; I’ve never done it
before! Looking back, maybe there were some signs that he wasn’t well, and
maybe I should have gotten him some help. But, really, how was I meant to
know that his fixation on certain girls in his class was some kind of
warning? It didn’t seem weird when these fixations transferred down to new
girls. They kept staying the same age, while he grew older. He was very
protective of others; I thought it was sweet. He didn’t ever kill any small
animals, which everyone says is the behavior you’re supposed to look for. He
has absolutely no trouble feeling empathy for people. I mean, when I say
these signs were obvious in retrospect, it’s because hindsight is 20/20, not
because I think I should have understood what the problem was back then. I
couldn’t have known, I couldn’t. He did some bad things when he was
older—those cages. He didn’t have to die for it, though, and they certainly
shouldn’t have blamed me for it. Like I said, he didn’t ever show any
violent tendencies. He truly wanted to help those women, and the situation
sometimes just got out of hand. If their own parents had raised them better,
perhaps they wouldn’t look so vulnerable. That’s what he was attracted to,
but not in a sexual way. He wanted to help them, and I can’t help but be
proud of him for that. I know he’s in heaven now, where he belongs, and I
know that I’ll soon meet him there...at last.
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