I was left alone, my limbs left detached.

Dean Martin sings, I’m finally free.

My murder was, of course, brutally horrific.

Everything comes to an end.

My death was a process that has come to an end.

There is no more ugly noise, only the waves and birds. There are no people to find my distorted and destroyed body.

The process of this outcome was long and painful. The details don’t matter because it is finally over. All of my suffering, gone, done.