A Sickening Odour of Tragedy

What a week it has been! Rotten in every sense of the word. Sickening!! First, a body of a young Malawian woman stuffed in a suitcase is discovered in Dublin. Secondly, I learn that a man I once met is a prime suspect in the murder investigation. Then follow the endless calls from the media looking for whatever information. And finally the unnerving news of the suspect's possible suicide. Tell me how I'm supposed to ever function again... I've been through some shocking moments in my life, but this, I'm experiencing now, is the great granny of all SHOCKS! It just has to be!! The enigmatic question I can't seem to crack is: What exactly would push one into committing murder in cold blood? Animosity? Anxiety? Monstrosity? Well, I don't know. Perhaps what the bible says about man being the image of holiness and purity is just a ludicrous myth. Perhaps we are just heartless monsters on two feet waiting to be pushed to an edge to have an excuse to hurt others. That would colorfully explain our wicked ways. Why we kill, rape or steal. It's a sad world occupied by sad creatures! "Monsters are never born, but created." Mary Alice of Desperate Housewives once cleverly pointed out. Yes, monsters are created by other monsters. It makes perfect sense! Human beings are never born with a natural ability to harm other human beings. But atrocious and painful experiences met along the course of life may brutally slaughter our souls and transform us into unfeeling monsters who kill, rape and steal. I can't seem to shake Jason Dube, the man who may have murdered Rudo Mawere and stuffed her in a suitcase, out of my head. I'm totally screwed! I keep seeing his face. Today I even went and sat on a chair he sat on the one time he visited our place. Crazy, I know, but some things are better left unexplained. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what could have been going through his mind then. What would have made him so anxious to an extent of taking a life? Especially that of someone he may have closely known? I keep going back to the day I met him. I could sense he was troubled... in spite of his cool disposition. I could smell a lot of restlessness about him. I just wish I could foresee the tragedy that was to follow. Was money really worth two precious lives?