Power is everything
Orginally,I knew what my goal was. I had it all planned out all nice and pretty for me. Save my mother,get out of poverty and live a good life. I can admit I've gotten out of hand. Way out of hand. I cant even remember faintly the coils of hunger or the stress of being thrown out on the cold unforgiving streets. Or the anxiety I would get when the rent was pate. Those feelings are now foreign to me,lost in time and thrown into the depths of the Hudson river with stones tying them down. I feel empty yet angry. All the time,at the maids,at my mother,Reginald that smug bastard and mostly myself. I got ahead of myself. Too fast and too much for me to handle. It was smothering me and here I was asking for more. More everything and more money,more sluts with plastic faces and waists. There's hardly a day where I don't snap. Sometimes at meeting it adds up to twenty,maybe at that weak little lamb,Reginald or even at just the cocktail server there. I see things they have that I don't,happiness,a family or maybe a heart. I'm supposed to be strong,the best,the second in command and the strongest killing machine out there but the newest city boy Reginald picked out might have me eating my own shit. The punk comes out of nowhere,freshly blooded with a spark in his eyes and a kick in his pants and is going through our ranks like he's on steriods. I'm sick of being outdone,I'm sick of all it. I want to see them cry and beg for forgiveness as I rip the people they love most to shreds and step on their remains like trash. I don't know how long I can take,holding back like this and cursing their names with little cheap voodoo dolls anymore before I want the real thing. I feel like a monster and every morning in the mirror I see it. It's hard not to ignore that long stupid orange tail of mine dragging on the floors and my whiskers. They drive me insane. When I get into my fits of rage all I see are sheep. Pathethic,rule abiding,dumbass sheep and I want to slaughter them bit by bit. Maybe,one day I can hide that orange with a blanket of red.
I know I'm not good enough to be Number one.
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Beasts: Diary Entries of Unspoken words
General FictionI found this notebook left on the sidewalk,abandoned and ignored. I was sure it was trash when I picked it up until I saw the names within and the ripped out diary entries. It seems crude and disrespectful to read them. But,I couldn't keep them to m...
