I went crazy. Completely insane. Running through the woods was easy, finding my way into houses was easier, but killing was the easiest thing I ha ever done. It was now that I realized how utterly stupid people are. I even started making a game out of it. Painting my name with the blood for others to see. I was on a roll, that is until my human-ness got in the way.
I was creeping through a man's house. He lived alone which was good. There was a mirror at the end of the hall that I hadn't seen. I stopped in front of it, staring at myself. My dark hair was messy and tangled, my eyes were blood shot from sleep deprivation, and my black clothes were shredded and covered in blood. My knife was in my hands, covered in blood. And somehow for the first time I realized that this was the blood of people. Men, women, and
children dead because of me. I was just like them, and I slaughtered them! I killed them! For no reason!
I threw my knife at the mirror and it shattered. I started sobbing, not caring if the man found me, not caring if I got caught. I sobbed and sobbed until the man came out of his room. His reactions were all the same as the other ones. Screaming and then calling the cops. I didn't care, crying was my only concern as of right now.
The cops came all right. They took me back to the hospital. I was put in a cell, alone, chained up. They found me guilty, and I was out to a death sentence taking place in two days.
But you can mark my words.
I will come back.
I always come back.
