obsession

prologue

i take a long, deep breath of the cool december breeze, letting the nicotine and alcohol-infused air fill my lungs. my eyes scan the crowds of downtown toronto hastily, searching for retribution for all my sins and pent-up emotion in one of these strangers' eyes. i scoff. "as if i'll ever find that," i mutter to myself, surely earning a questioning glance from at least one person passing by.

i lean against the brick wall of a sleazy restaurant that's probably ought to get shut down soon because of its terrible condition, focusing on only one aspect of my surroundings—the people walking past me, casually living their everyday lives without a care in the world. the people chatting amongst themselves pleasantly, discussing trivial matters, steering them away from the jarring reality that is the world we live in— the world in which we so blindly go through everyday, living our lives, without a care in the world, ignoring how terribly corrupt and cruel it truly is. the people who are unaware that they walk amongst a murderer. me.

it's almost sickening, really. how can one be so blind to the events unfolding around them? hell, it almost makes me feel bad, but god forbid that ever happens. i've lost my emotions a long time ago. all i am now is numb. the only thing i can feel now is the adrenaline that flows through my veins while i bury my knife into a fresh, live body. the thrill as their blood splatters onto my skin. it's like a drug to me, and i fucking crave it.