Personality Break

     I stare blankly at the marble tabletop as I spin the blade. I need to feel. To feel guilty for my thoughts. To feel pain or betrayal. What happened to the love and happiness I once felt? My heart has been shattered too many times. I fear that after today, my emotions will be like a long forgotten dream. I lie to myself. I say I'm numb, though I'm not. A deep anger simmers in ever fiber of my being, biding its time. It's what brings me to the blade beneath my fingertips. 'I won't harm myself.' I tell myself. An image fills my mind and I savor it.
      His icy blue eyes are wide in shock, his dark hair carefully gelled to look messy. In his hands, he holds thick coils of bloody, greyish-purple small intestine. His large intestine is in my hands, the blood staining my fingers like a melted cherry Popsicle. I am laughing. Giggling, actually. Odd. I don't normally giggle. I yank visciously on the intestine, causing the slit in his belly to rip further open with a wet tearing sound. More of his vital organs spill to the blood stained carpet under his feet with soft plops. I watch as his legs give out and he falls face forward into the pile of his own insides.
     A car sounds in the driveway and I blink away the image, slamming my hand down instinctively. Pain radiates from my palm and I look down to see blood dripping from the sliced flesh. I watch it with interest, absorbing the thick appearance of it. The door opens, but I'm no longer fully here. I watch my bleeding palm, imagining it as her throat.
      The jagged flaps of flesh open and close like gills on a fish. I hold the bloody blade in white knuckles, feeling the anger drain away. She tries to speak, her green eyes full of shock and betrayal, but all that sounds is a thick gurgle.
      A shrill laugh cuts into my daydream and the anger surges to the surface for a second. I manage to beat it back. This time. She stumbles in, still dressed in work clothes from yesterday.
     I can immediately smell the booze on her breath. He will follow suit soon. She takes no notice of the growing puddle of blood on her dining table as she shoots a flirty look over her shoulder.
     Something clicks in my mind. Or maybe it's the snap I've been waiting for. Maybe now I can find the courage to fulfill my visions. She is giggling uncontrollably. It would be all too easy to plunge my simple steak knife between her shoulder blades and pierce her heart.
     "You idiot," he growls, stepping into the dining room. "Only you could cut yourself by sitting," he snarls. I debate whether or not to point out the fact that he can barely read. The anger surges forward again, making me grip the knife and stand. I struggle with what I know is wrong. 'Should I? I want to.' My grip tightens on the blade despite my brain's command to release it. 'Am I in control anymore?' I don't know. I take a step towards them and two green eyes appear in the doorway.
     "Mommy's home!" Lilly squeals, rushing to the drunk bitch. Against my will, I take another step. 'Put the little one down first so she doesn't have to suffer the loss.' A sinister voice whispers in my mind.
     'No. Please.' I plead with myself.