She lies on the bed, the tired body and the heavy head, sore from a bruising. You will meet worse than me he said, years before, when he spoke to a so called friend of the thug who helped end her life. Really sighed Solomon, could anyone be worse than what he was looking at, someone who preyed on the vulnerable, dosed them with drugs, to keep them under his control. Not likely sighed Solomon to himself.
After many promises and interventions, and the missing friends: they too had a life to get on with, she finally is overcome, a victim; the blame put on the descent into alcoholism. She knocked on many doors, sought help from many corners, all she attracted were the wolves who preyed on them, those without back up or good friends. One day he sighed.
Solomon was recalling a friend, who had passed on this day years before, a true tragedy.