"Yeah? Then let's see rats chew the faces off one of those rich fucks when they die! You ever see that, Byron? You ever hear of that happening but for a mistake? Hmm? And grandma that fell in the bathtub and fed her cats for a couple weeks doesn't count, either, 'cause they wouldn't have left her that way if they knew.
"We knew about Chiggy, didn't we? They knew about him. He had social workers and parole officers and such that were responsible for him, didn't he? That's more than most have. Still, he ended up like that. Rats, chewing on his face.
"That's what REALLY scares me, Byron, because I know someday, someday sooner than later, it's coming, the end. It's coming, and with it, the rats. It's the price I'll pay for my freedom. Nobody will notice. Nobody will care. Nobody will bother to stop to pick up the pieces.
"One night, when the moon is full and the weeds are high enough to make a shade around my corpse, one night perhaps some fool will stop to speak to my smile that will be the smile of hungry rats. Then, one night not long after, I'll be a skull in the dirt. I'll be worse than forgotten. I will have never been. I won't even be a question or a thought. I won't even be a period or a comma on a piece of paper in a file.
"I'll be like the wind that blows through the skeleton of this bridge. You hear it, you feel it, but you never see it. You don't think of it after the lightest touch of it has left your skin. It simply is. Then it's gone."