There’s more fear in connecting Alexi to the sort of monster in my head who could torture a man than knowing that perverted fuck writhed in agony until he took his last breath.

I don’t care that a life has been snubbed out.

I care about seeing Alexi as some evil being who could do it. Afraid he changes how I look at him with a few sentences, I can’t have him give me the details that would do that.

That’s fucked up.

There is something genuinely wrong with ...