The dregs of life, the lowly, the downtrodden, the absolutely insignificant, that's what he dealt with each and every day.
It made no sense, there was no rhyme or reason to it. He had always been able to take it in stride, it never affected him, it didn't touch him. He clucked and clicked his lips in sympathy when all he really wanted was to be left alone, to be safe in his own world.
But this time, it did touch him, this time when he clucked and clicked his lips it was with true sympathy, sympathy for himself.
His work on this case had been extensive, when they caught the madman and, that is exactly what he was, a psychopathic, antisocial, homicidal maniac, in the truest sense.
He remembered how he had felt so superior, how he had made his diagnosis, how he had told the man in no uncertain terms he was not ill, he was purely evil.
He never did get the full understanding of how he had escaped, never got the gist of how he knew where he lived. It still didn't register, it probably never would, what horror his family must have gone thru or how long they went thru it.
He stopped to catch his breath, his vision was blurred, the pills he'd taken were starting to work and already he could feel the sedative affect taking over.
The tree was large enough to see through his haze and it was close enough to catch him as he sunk to the earth. He leaned his back against the tree, a moment of nausea shook him and just as quickly passed.
The tree swayed, the leaves shook, he thought he heard his wife call his name.. he did hear the song..
don't you cry
go to sleep my little baby
"Everyone knew who he was, his face had been plastered all over the news.. sad but, his death was much more peaceful than his familys'.."