Vent Stories/Things

You poor thing.

I struggle to fight back and wake myself up, getting slower and weaker each time I squirm, while I let out an evil chuckle and look down at my victim who looked back at me, my hand covering his mouth and my nails digging into his face as I make sure to have a tight grip on him.

...There were tears in his eyes as they showed signs of heartbreak, fear, and shock. I wanted to make it stop. I held something that looked like a knife, and then I began to stab him all over his chest repeatedly. Blood gushing and oozing out of the deep wounds onto the hard cold concrete floor that was beneath us in the dark cold night.

He let's out sharp painful muffled screams each time I pulled back and thrusted the knife into his skin, his hand reaching out shakily to me and weakly grabbing onto my arm while tears ran down his cheeks. I looked into his eyes again, almost wanting to cry from the look in it.

But I didn't cry. I just grinned sadistically from the look of his face, letting out a snicker while his hand continued to weakly hold onto my arm, still shaking as his own blood continued to ooze and gush out of his wounds.

"You're such a pathetic freak." I stated coldly at the boy, stabbing him in his gut slowly and painfully. He let's out a muffled groan, shutting his eyes tightly from the pain of me twisting and turning the knife, blood spattering onto my white shirt and cheek.

I watched helplessly, my struggling already ending a long time ago since I became too weak and slow to even move. No matter how much I wanted to cry, hug my victim tightly into my arms while bandaging them and apologizing. I couldn't. My eyes scan through him, watching him breathe weakly while I pull the knife out.

Crimson sticky red blood already surrounding his body a bit, still slowly oozing out. His eyes look into mine, slowly closing while his breathing gets weaker and weaker.

His hand that was holding onto my arm beginning to weakly let go of me, blood staining onto my arm from the tips of his fingers sliding down it after trying to cover the deep wounds that I had given him.

I get off of my knees and back up onto my feet. My hair gently moving along with the light breezy wind. I move some back behind my air, making sure that none gets into my face, looking down at my victim and into his lifeless eyes.

Tears were covering his face, some scratch marks on them from me having my nails dig into them. The water from his eyes burning the marks.

I didn't kill just anyone though, I had just killed my close best friend. Someone who I had known for a while, someone who I trusted. Someone who I had killed after they had betrayed me badly and broke my heart.

Betrayal or not, I didn't want to do what I had just done.

.......

I slowly open my eyes, staring at the door from my view. My head spinning around while I slowly lift my self up weakly and shakily, just processing what had happened. I turn my head over to my clock, fuck..it's already 10 at night..how long was I out? My mom might kill me due to how long I've slept but it doesn't matter right at the moment.

My head spun around as I let out small soft groans, shaking my head a bit to make the spinning stop. I get up off of the bed and stand up onto my feet, my legs shaking as I stumbled a bit towards the door.

I open the garage door, looking back into the room. My laptop that was near me had fallen off a bit. The other blankets that were surrounding me already messed up a bit. Meaning that I had probably struggled in my sleep.

I wanted to cry and curl up into my blanket after that dream, I couldn't though. I needed to get some air after that. I would tell my mom about this, but knowing how protective and worried she is for me that would result to her getting concerned for me and maybe even thinking that something is wrong with me when there really isn't, which I don't want.

If I was back at where I used to live where I once had a therapy, I probably would've told my therapist. But she'd probably be concerned too and maybe even tell my mom about it, I wouldn't want that happening either if I was back at "home."

Dream or not though...I still wish I could've saved you. And I'm so sorry that I was too weak to do nothing but just stand there and watch you suffer.

Maybe though...

Maybe if it happens again and I'm stronger this time...

Maybe I could save you and everyone else who I had failed to help...