How to be a Sociopath (Editing)

Entry Four: This is Proof.

I sometimes thought about it, actually killing someone, ending their life. How with one pull of a trigger or one swift movement of a blade their life would be over. Death has always been an abstract concept to me, a person can take another's life but can't bring them from the dead. That doesn't exactly seem fair, does it? But this world isn't fair, it's manipulative. It uses things like death and fear of that to control you, to force you into submission, and if you refuse to submit bad things will happen, bad things always happen. Did Claire submit? I'm not sure. But I'm probably defying the laws of this world because while I am a sociopath, I am neither manipulative nor egocentric. I haven't gone on a massive killing spree, I haven't destroyed anyone's life as far as I can tell, I don't lie to get what I want mostly because I don't want anything and partly because the truth is a terrible enemy but you're only ally in world like this. But I still think about it, killing someone. Not because I want to kill someone but because I want to understand, I want the confusion surrounding such a twisted and cold word to disappear. But even if I do take someone's life will that really give me some deeper understanding of death? If it did why don't killers remember why they killed? Was it that insignificant? That unimpressive? But most of them probably don't do it because they want to understand but because they want to feel what it's like to have that much power over life and death, still they should remember shouldn't they?

I woke up in a comfortable king size bed, in a large room with sun streaming in from the window, an impressive change in atmosphere. I looked at the time, exactly seven am I can get up. I stretched my arms and headed to the bathroom, washing each hand fifteen times. I have a few obsessive tendencies or as people call them OCD triggers. I brushed my teeth and hair, and finally got out of the bathroom.
"Oh Chris, you're awake?" I turned around at hearing her voice. She was wearing her usual business outfit but this time with a purple blouse, her red hair fell to her shoulder in waves while her striking eyes stood out from her delicate bone structure. People always told me how beautiful she is.
"Yeah." I looked passed her to the sliding glass door that lead to a huge clear pool with white lounge chairs surrounding it. I never understood why we had a pool, no one used it ever since Katherine went to college.
"Don't do that." She snapped her finger. Crap, I forgot she hates it when I do that. But why? What's the significance of eye contact? I noticed the brief case she was holding, it was different from the ones she has.
"Is that new?" I asked.
"Huh?" She raised an eyebrow.
"The brief case."
"No, it's Richard's." She walked past me, taking out her phone, probably to check on her assistant.
"Why do you have Richard's brief case?" I caught up with her.
"Because the airhead forgot to bring it to the firm, it has some important documents for a case against the DA."
"What case?" She stopped walking and turned around to face me.
"Why're you asking so many questions? It's not like you." She furrowed her eyebrows.
"I need a distraction."
"From what, exactly? Wait, did something happen with your father? Did Frank do something to you?"
"No, that's not it." I shook my head, it's really because I  can't stop thinking about dying. It's confusing and I can't avoid it, I don't know how to avoid it.
"Then what?" She placed a hand on her hips, she only does that when she's being persistent meaning she won't let this go until I tell her. But I can't tell her, she'll send me to a therapist and that's just a waste of time, and for all I know the therapist might actually correctly diagnose me if I'm not careful and I have no idea how that'll turn out, probably me in a mental hospital. People have a prejudice against sociopaths, believing we're nothing but monsters especially since a lot of us tend to act like monsters, killing people for money, most times for their own excitement, playing with people to get what they want, disregarding people almost completely, or outright torturing people to spite them. I'm not sure if I'll end up like that, I don't think I'd kill someone, it's too much trouble and I don't see what I am to achieve from that. I don't hate or resent anyone so I wouldn't torture them and I'm neither a sadist so I don't get off from it. I prefer to live in solitude than play the puppet master. "Hey, Chris." She snapped her fingers again. I turned my gaze back to her. "You're spacing out again," she sighed. "I guess this proves you're okay." She kissed my cheek. "I'll pick you up after school, don't forget to eat breakfast before you go though." I nodded and with that she left, leaving me all alone in a this huge fortress of a house. Or mansion, technically. But is it weird that me spacing out is enough to dissuade her? I guess not considering that's the norm with me.

After I was done with eating, I grabbed my hoody and bag and headed to school. This house was quite a few miles away from school so I either have to call a cab or get a bus. Since I still have a tend day bus ticket I decided the latter. The streets of this neighbourhood were much more colourful and a lot more extravagant than the one my father lived in, my parents were of two different social classes, I wonder what that makes me.  I don't care all that much about social classes though, they're pointless titles that somehow determine that kind of person you're going based on the people you'll be surrounded with, how you'd act in certain situation, or you're taught to act; all smiles and back talk if you ask me. Humans are humans, nothing you say or do will change that, some might be bad and some might be good but they're still human. But people can never see that, they're too busy playing this shallow facade of the importance of society, what society? A society that encourages capitalism and lies but discriminates openness and free spirit? They're in this so deep that they can't even see the blue of the sky anymore, in other words they're blind. Or as blind as it gets. I entered an alleyway, a shortcut to the bus stop, when I heard heavy breathing.
"Hey!" Two guys appeared, from both entrances of the alleyway. You've got to be kidding me. "Give us your money and you can walk." The taller of the two approached me, he had a thick thuggish accent much like the one you'd hear in TV. I continued to stare at me, he's choice of clothes was definitely proof that he had no taste but his footwear was more than impressive. But guessing from the fact that he's trying to rob me right now, he didn't earn those shoes from hard-earned cash but petty thievery. "Hey!" He pushed me to the ground. "I said, give us your money." I looked at my side to find an empty beer bottle, ironic considering yesterday. I turned my stoic gaze to him, keeping my expression blank.
"I rather not." I finally said, discreetly reaching for the bottle. He shared a look with his friend before looking at me.
"The fuc-" I didn't wait for him to finish before lunging at him, smashing the bottle against his head, he fell to the ground. "OUCH!" He grabbed his grazed face. "What the fuck?!" He glared at him. "GET HIM, TYDE!" I moved to my side as the other guy tried to attack me, grabbing his shirt I stuck out my knee and pushed him down as hard as I could. He also fell, clutching his probably agonisingly aching stomach. I looked back at the other guy, who was staring at him dumbfounded, he found my gaze and began backing away as I moved towards him. "I'm sorry man, we didn't mean to cause you trouble, we just wanted some cash." He pleaded as his back hit a brick wall. I took out my switch blade and kneeled down in front of him. Staring at his, I thought about how easy it would be to just slit it. He'd bleed to death and maybe then I won't be so confused anymore. "Please man..." I shook my head at hearing his voice, and instead brought the blade to his face, slowly leaving a scarlet line behind, he winced.
"Remember this next you decide to cause trouble." I stood up and picked up my bag, leaving the alleyway and the two idiot thieves behind. What just happened?