Laugh­ing Stock

I revelled in the news of your botched suicide. Seemed such fitting fortune that you should die twice. But my sense of vengeance withered and withdrew when I saw what remained ushered into the room: a fun house reflection of the strapping thug that was. Diapered, deformed and drooling through that simpering smile, that puerile grin for the camera crew. I stared long and hard but I could find no trace of the piece of human shit that tortured, killed and raped Shidane Arone. Wrong time, wrong place. He was 16 years old. They say you reap what you sow and sometimes I force myself to rifle through the images so I believe that too. The fool seeks retribution, the fool leaves seeking penitence. Forgive me, I know not what I do. Laughing stock.

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