The Patient.

"April showers bring May flowers, at least, that's what my doctor used to tell me. Of course, I used past tense, because he's gone now."

"Why is he gone Lily? Who told you he is gone?"

"Oh, I know he is. I killed him last night, with my bare hands."

"And you say this with no shame?"

"No Sir. I'm not crazy, I know what I've done. He would tell me day and night, his stories about great things that strive from dead things. But could he not see I suffered? Could he not see it was not working for me, these pills and powders he fed me? I couldn't take it anymore. I simply couldn't, it was unacceptable."

"So, you killed him? You will not be denying this fact?"

"I did. It was the last thing I wanted do before losing my life to a fight that never begun; jail, death, what's the difference anyway? He was so high and mighty in his expensive leather seat, spouting ignorant phrases by the dozen as if he'd experienced the malady himself: I couldn't let this man walk the earth and torture other souls like me. And that, officer, is why I had to murder my doctor."