Such a big belly! Big white drum-belly! Screaming, like they say a stuck pig screams, and squeals, and tries to crawl away—so you must straddle it, knees gripping her slippery, naked back to wreak the greatest vengeance.

Because she was so beautiful, the sun shone out of her face.

Because she was so beautiful, she did not deserve to live.

All of them, strangers to us—they did not deserve to live.

Do it gruesome—Charlie commanded.

Because that was the address he’d given us on a winding canyon road in the night—Leave no one alive there.

Because we did not question. (Why would we question?)

Because rage is justice, if you are the meek.

Because it is said—Blessed are the meek, they shall inherit the earth.

Because when flames burst inside you, you know that you are redeemed.

Because it is time for my parole, Jesus is commanding you—Turn my minion loose!

Because you are fools who think you see a putty-skinned plain old woman in prison clothes humbling herself before you, a harmless old bag with a collapsed face and collapsed breasts to her waist—you have not the eyes to see who I am, as with his laser eyes Charlie saw at once—You are beautiful.

Because Charlie perceived in me within a minute of seeing me, I might be a sword of God.

Because I might be a scourge of the enemy.

Because I had wanted to be a nun, but the nuns rejected me.

Because you will all pay, that the nuns rejected me.

Because if you release me, I have more justice to seek.

Because you hold the keys to the prison, but one day you will suffer as we suffer, in the flaming pits of Hell.

Because you are trying to find a way to comprehend me. So you can pity me. So you can be superior to me. She was brainwashed. She was not responsible. She was fed hallucinogens—LSD. She was weak-minded, under the spell of the madman.

Because you are mistaken. Because you have no idea what is in my heart.

Because beside Charlie, who was our beautiful Christ, you are vermin.

He would grind you beneath his feet.

Because we made her famous—“Sharon Tate.”

Because the slut would be forgotten by now if we had not made her famous.

Because I dipped my hands in her hot, pulsing blood. Shoved my hands into her big belly. Eviscerate—Charlie commanded.

Because you see?—I am meeting your eyes, I am not looking away.

Because I am not servile to the Board of Parole like others who appear meekly before you.

Because I am a woman of dignity. Because prison has not broken my spirit, which is suffused with Charlie’s love.

Because I can see, you are filled with loathing for me. As I am filled with loathing for you.