I like my hair sometimes.
Smoking during that thunderstorm was a great idea. Goodnight y’all.
I’ve been waiting for this day. Today is the day.
Seeing La Dispute with Balance and Composure in less than two hours. No doubt the greatest day ever. I will surely cry. This is going to be great.
My puppy likes Balance and Composure. Best. Puppy. Ever.
You’ve heard of him before, but never actually thought you’d have the opportunity to meet him personally. Or even defend his case. Out of all the defense attorneys in town, they picked you. He picked you. You thought he was insane, but not for what he was being charged for. Just the fact that he picked you was more insane than what he had done to those men.
You did your research. You did your job. You did it well. You were determined to win this case, even though you knew the chances of that happening were slim to none. You didn’t listen to your colleagues, you didn’t care. You were fascinated by this as much as the next guy. After all the research and looking over of files and reports, you knew him before you even met him. You were able to get inside his head. Or so you thought.
People referred to him as “The Milwaukee Cannibal.” There were allegedly seventeen victims. Mainly men and little boys. His early life was quite normal, but he grew increasingly withdrawn and uncommunicative between the ages of 10 and 15, showing little interest in any hobbies or social interactions. He started drinking and became an alcoholic by the time of his high school graduation. He dropped out of college, got sent to the Army, got kicked out, and moved in with his grandmother in West Allis. His strange behavior increased while he lived with her. She ended up kicking him out, saying there were foul smells coming from the basement. During that time, he had been arrested for numerous things such as drunk and disorderly conduct, twice for indecent exposure, and he had to register as a sex offender. Now, this is where it gets good.
You entered the dark, windowless room with not only fear, but excitement. You were afraid of the things he had done, but impressed as to how skilled he was at doing it. The excitement was pure adrenaline. Being in the same room as a well known killer was exciting to you. Admiration wasn’t the word, but maybe respect. You didn’t know why he did what he did, but you were intrigued of how long he didn’t get caught for doing it.
There were multiple security guards and cameras around. This one guy eyed you. Like he knew you were going to give the guy a bone. Cut him some slack, let him go easy.
He was fat and sweating. He smelled. He smelled like Old Spice and boneless Buffalo chicken wings. You realized how hungry and disgusted you were by his natural odors.
“You here to interview that loon?” he asked you with a very stern voice. It cracked at first, but then he got a grip.
“My client, yes,” you took offense to the word ‘loon.’ What does that even mean? What classifies someone for being such a thing? Are there characteristics for this word? Am I one?
He unlocked the door, snickering. “Good luck, kid,” he said as he waved you on into the room. He didn’t mean it.
You saw him. Just sitting there in the dark. All the shadows on his face were clear. He looked like an ordinary man. Everyone else thought he wasn’t, but you were positive he was. He just did things other people wouldn’t. But these things were serious, illegal, disturbing, and some might even say disgusting.
He didn’t say anything. He just nodded yes or no. He chuckled here and there. Never said an actual word or sentence. You asked him what you needed to and got out of there fast. You were sweating; it creeped you out at how silent he was. You reached for the door, palms clammy as can be, scared he’d sense the fear on you. You could smell it. Could he? Before your body was completely out of the room, he opened his mouth and said something that changed your life forever. It haunted you.
“I have to question whether there is an evil force in the world and whether or not I have been influenced by it. Although I am not sure if there is a God, or if there is a Devil. I know, as of lately, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about both.” His voice was very monotone; rather soothing. A bit raspy. You walked out and closed the door behind you. That replayed in your head throughout the trial.
You were told that they were going to examine not only him, but his brain. To get to the bottom of this. To figure out if it was all from impulse, or there was something truly wrong with him. They just wanted more answers, more proof. It would be beneficial to the public and to all concerned that there be closure, and that this matter would be resolved once and for all. He was fully aware of what he was doing. He did it because he enjoyed the power he had over them. He did, however, drink excessively to try and forget about “the nightmare he had been living in.” He offered to help the police try and find all the bodies. He was more than cooperative; you were greatly surprised.
He said human flesh “tasted like beef.” The jury was revolted and disgusted. Everyone, including you, was disgusted. He pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. He told police he killed for his own warped, selfish desires and self-gratification. He told them every dirty little secret. He seemed completely calm through it all. You weren’t. You were terrified, for him. You knew what the outcome would be. You knew he knew what was going to happen to him as well. He admitted to his crimes, he blamed only himself. The public was stunned by how well spoken and intelligent he was. You knew from the start that he wasn’t that different from anyone else on the street.
The court rejected his insanity plea, and sentenced him to fifteen consecutive life sentences. You knew you weren’t going to win. You did what you could. You did your job. You did it well. You lost. You would never forget this man, this case, or this day. You would also never forget the day you heard he was killed by another inmate. You would remember, for the rest of your existence, where you were and what you were doing when you heard the news. You would never forget, even if you tried. And dammit, did you try.
