I am free..
Wait am I?
I don't know anymore who's in control.
Let me explain:
some time this morning I awoke in the woods, all I could do was look up into the dark night, the stars and moon were still up which means it must have been early morning and the ground was a little damp, I assume from the rainfall we've been having.
It was peaceful so I just enjoyed it, the fresh smell of grass and sweet water filled the cool night air, I don't think I enjoyed the night so much as this one time.
My hand's felt warm, unnaturally warm, as if someone was pouring a hot, warm liquid over them. At first the feeling was weird but I grew use to it.
I was growing aware more and more of my surroundings as I sat up at looked around, the moon illuminated every tree and moss filled surface, the sound of the waterfall that is just outside my community seemed closer then ever.
It seemed as if I was slowly becoming aware of my senses, touch the liquid, smell the grass and air, see the light, hear the noises, taste the copper.
The copper that was on my lips, the copper that stained my pale lips a blood soaken red as I soon learned from rubbing my fingers across my bottom lip the colour of red appeared on my fingers.
It was blood, not the lipstick on my makeup drawer, which was home the place I sure of hell wasn't.
The feeling of something beating, squirming and twitching in my other hand, the one that was on the wet moss I squeezed it unsure of what it was soft and warm.
there was a gurgling, a soft whimper and noise of splurting, those un-human noises will never leave my dreams.
It was him, the guy who had injured me, his chest was sliced perfectly around his heart, his bloody, beating, dying heart that was in my hand.
He was unable to speak for the only thing coming from his mouth now was blood, warm thick blood that glimmered in the moon's light down his pale, dying face.
His hand's reached out to mine, as if begging for me to save him.
I couldn't help, I shuffle back, tears mixed with the dried blood on my face.
I noticed everything now, all my surroundings became perfectly clear, all the blood that mixed with the dirt and moss, how the trees swayed in the soft breeze.
And the terrified scream that escaped from my lips.
And the way that fucking maniac smiled, the way that he turned his lips for one last time before I crushed his heart in my hand's.
before I really put an end to him.
I came home, bloodied up, and washed the best I could of my sins away down the drain.
How I acted like nothing happened.
But inside I was still terrified, of that face, that smile, that still beating heart and how I killed him.
He was still alive when I crushed his only life in my hands.
I'm a killer.
I need to get away.
Who am I
What is my purpose for living?
should I run?
Where could I run
I need to kill someone
It will be my last kill
It will be my only purposeful murder, the only one I will choose to commit with these two bare hands.
I need to kill the doll maker.
I need to kill that fucking girl, I don't see mii anymore.
Its her fucking face, her laugh her thoughts I'm not living my life.
and its scaring me.