Broken Dreams

Prologue

There are times in life when you feel like the whole universe is siding against you. An eternity of darkness rages at you, making you tremble in fear. Only the tiniest feelings that were running through your veins were occupied by true and honest agony. How did it come to be, that the only people I have ever cherished, laid limb at my bare, frosty feet? Trickles of crimson red were splattered on my face like water droplets. I collapsed onto my knees and tossed the blood-soaked, razor-sharp blade across the shadowy room. Tears began to swell at the edge of my eyelids as I caressed my mother and father's soft, brunette hair. Their wide, frightened eyes were now the only part of them that seemed to still be alive.

"I-I'm so s-sorry," was what echoed through my quivering lips.

My pale fingers reached for my parent's eyes and closed them gently. I wanted them to be in peace and not have their lifeless eyes forever open. Soon, after mourning over my parents' deaths, I began to dart towards my bedroom. Snatching up some clothes, I forcefully stuffed them into a velvet and lavender bag. After I had ample amount of clothes, I seized a picture of my parents sitting in front of a gigantic waterfall. Next to my parents was a small, but bold looking child, holding hands with my parents. Her smile gleamed with joy as she looked up at my parents. The other child next to this girl was... Me. I was hugging my father's waist and grinning towards the camera. My heart ached from the warm, fuzzy feeling I had in my chest, but I let it go. There is no time to be helpless right now. I need to leave. There is no place for a monster like me here. Then I picked up my phone. Before I bounded out the front, wooden door, I murmured a brief few last words with my deceased parents laying in a pool of rosy red blood.

"Goodbye, I hope you will forgive me for what I have done to you. I love you and never forget that." I whimpered as a shiver bolted down my spine for the very last time in a long time.

And that was the last time I had felt any kind of emotion other than the guilt and anger that had always tugged onto me, lingering until it was just too unbearable. I was a wreck. My sanity was slipping passed me to a place where I could not see it. No one could accompany me and take the misery away. It wasn't like they were trying anyway since I had always pushed them away. I smiled for others sake around me though they could never see. I kept my hood up so no one could recognize me. I was a broken toy that could never be fixed.

I had been given shelter by a middle-aged woman's cottage far off into the woods. She let me stay there not knowing my unforgettable past.

Sometimes I would go on errands for the old lady. And so I went into the city. I would pass stores on the streets with the TVs displayed for all to see. There was always some talk on the news about my disappearance. They would say that they felt horrible for me because I must feel so alone, helpless even. They would talk about how I might of disappeared or even if I'm the killer. And they were right, I did feel alone, but I didn't feel helpless. I felt more like I was the danger. That everyone else would be the helpless creatures under my control. I'm the killer after all.

I'll watch children play among the parks in the city with their parents. Some would laugh or throw little fits to get what they wanted. I would grow angry sometimes. How dare do they disrespect their parents after all that they do for them. Ungrateful, inconsiderate, little brats are what they are. Nothing but a waste of time. One time I even walked over to a parent with their crying child and scolded the child for being so disrespectful. My anger reflected in my face and that scared the child into hushing up. After I was satisfied I turned around quietly and walked away. I got a quiet thank you, but I never returned the reply. I just smiled to myself, picturing that child's frightened face.

As the days would pass, my guilt would grow stronger than before. I would frighten the lady I was with sometimes when I had my episodes. I would screech my heart out, sometimes damaging my vocal cords. My nails clawed at my face leaving bloody scratch marks. Shadows blocked my visions every second. I'd cry and cry over and over again wishing it was all over. Incoherent words spilled out of my lips like a trance. And the only thing the lady could do was hold me in her arms. Though it never seemed to help even though I would calm down after awhile. It was just that I was too weak to feel the pain anymore.

The days would grow into weeks and those days would grow into months. And as it proceeded my depression grew and I started to take my pain out on others. It started out by yelling, then throwing things, and then hitting people. I got into many fights with people on the streets. It enriched my feelings and made me stronger. I grew happier with the people I would fight. And it wasn't the good kind either. To me, it was like they were letting me hurt them. Like they enjoyed every punch and kick I gave. And I.... I wanted to make them even happier. So I thought that the next fight that I got into... I would bring a gift. But not any old gift. Oh no... It was a gift of their blood onto my hands. Gallons of their savory red liquid dripping from me would give them the satisfaction they wanted. I would be the new version of Hell on Earth. What a lovely gift to give isn't it?

I killed my lovely fighting buddies and I made sure they could feel every single sensation of my knife tearing into their chest. I would make their body into a piece of art that only my eyes could ever see. I did them a favor you know. Well, that's what I thought in the moment of everything. But apart of me, deep within me was horrified of what I had done. I didn't want to look, but nevertheless I always did. I don't know what came over me. But I want you to know, I do regret what I did. It was never me when I killed those people. I never even wanted this.

My name is not known by anyone, except one person. And he would be the person who would help me seek revenge on what I did no matter how much I don't like the outcome.