I roamed the streets like a vagabond, no place in the Inn. I was neck deep in fear, felt haunted and clueless. I couldn't talk to anyone. My bloodshot eyes were evidence of no sleep over the past couple of days. I was low on cash and couldn't swipe my card for the fear of being tracked. I mingled with the homeless, ate with whatever cash I had left and hid myself during the day. I was now penniless, homeless, lonely and scared. I began to think but did not know where to start. How did I land in such a mess? How did I become so savage? What really happened? Why did I kill my wife? I could not connect the dots and felt a psychotic rage build in me. Bitter tears now flowing.

I awoke all of a sudden to the siren of a passing police car. I was shaking and tried to calm myself. Fumbling in my pockets I found some change. I decided to have some coffee at a motel close by. I entered the motel and headed to the cafeteria and ordered a coffee. The TV was on and some light music was playing in the background. Suddenly the news of my wife's murder came up on the screen. They had found the murder weapon at our residence with my prints all over it. They flashed my photo and the news anchor asserted I was the prime suspect...