Crazy

Return

It only took 37 days. 37 days of eating grass. 37 days of drinking water out of ponds. But it is worth it. Because I am home. Now I can finish my journey. Now I can get rid of the woman. The woman that saw me kill the witch. The woman that turned me in. The woman that called me crazy. I have learned her identity because she testified against me in court. It turns out, she is my neighbor. How perfect. Now I can show her the errors of her ways. Now I can show her what a mistake she made. How nice am I? I see her enter her house. She is eating an apple. I know what to do. I walk over and knock on the door. It opens quickly, revealing the woman, holding the apple in her mouth as she is carrying a book in each hand. It takes a second for her to recognize me, but when she does her eyes widen, and each book falls to the ground with a thud. Before she can react, I punch the apple . I can hear the woman's jaw dislocate as her mouth makes more room for the intruder. I push her to the ground, and drag her to the dining room, where I tie her to the charge with some piano wire lying next to her grand piano. The same piano she was sitting at when she glanced through my window and saw me. The same piano she was sitting at when she decided I was crazy. What a mistake. Filled with a new rage at the woman for calling me crazy, I run to the kitchen and grab a spoon and a mallet used for pounding meat. I walk back, grinding my teeth, seething in anger. I do not care about the woman. I do not care that she is trying to break free, the piano wire cutting into her wrists and legs. I do not care that she is crying, attempting to scream at the top of her lungs. All I care about, is the mistake she made. I need to show her what she did wrong.

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I use the spoon to scoop out her eyes. I take care not to sever the nerve cords. She needs to see her mistake. Holding her eyes, twisting them around so that they look at the woman's face, I begin. Using the mallet, I repeatedly strike the apple down the woman's throat. Her neck bulges, the veins and arteries threatening to burst. And then they do. Her neck explodes from the force of my pounding. Blood spray across my body. The woman's head tears off of her body and falls to the ground, no longer being supported by her neck.

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I admire my creation. The woman has learned her lesson. I may return home now. But just to remind her what she caused, what her mistake brought upon herself, I nail her eyes to the ceiling, so that she will forever see the mess she made.