Thursday, October 13, 2016

# 87689 June 7th 1947


            Is this all I get? Really? I was more than this, this number. I was some one’s son. She held me in her arms and prayed for me and cried for me. She tended my injuries and cried real tears when they sentenced me to death. I mattered to her, even if I didn’t understand how she could love a sinner like me. I can guarantee there are people out there who will never forget me.

            I reveled in sin. If it made me feel good I consumed it. Alcohol, drugs, women, men.  I deserved to be remembered. I looked into the eyes of each of them as I tightened my hands around their throats. I sucked the last breath from their lips as they surrendered to me.

            I deserve more than a number. Look at me. Look at everything I did. I made my mark on the world. I changed the way everyone in the world lived their lives. Women no longer hitchhike alone. Parents don’t let their children take shortcuts through the woods. Men, men well, they will always be men. That’s what made them such an easy catch.

            I might be only a number here, but I changed the world. I changed you. Didn’t I?

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