Sitting in bed, I stared down at the blankets, my eyes slowly losing its bright red glow it once had. My breathing had become ragged, and I could feel my stomach becoming sicker as time passed. Within me, I could feel vomit elevating out of my stomach and up my throat, but before it would exit my body, it would halt and slither back in.
The constant pain of wanting to throw up yet never being able to felt like hell. The slow, unnerving tick of the clock pricked my skin like an insect as I could feel my body fluctuating between many temperatures. Sweat dripped down my forehead, and onto my palm seeping into the small cracks of my skin.
Blink.
Sweat turned into blood as it flowed across my palm. It morphed and conformed to the shape of my palm as it felt much colder. The free moving liquid then started to change into various shapes on my palm.
A knife. A gun. A bullet. A smile. An eye. The shape of a hair.
I knew where it was going as tears started to fill my eyes. It morphed into a beautiful woman with the silkiest of hair and the kindest postures.
Mother.
And then into a smaller girl. Young and beautiful, a smile accompanying her every step of the way.
Abi.
Not able to bear it anymore, I clenched my hand shut as I held it towards my face, weeping onto my fist. My heart couldn't accept the fact that Abi had died. That she had left. That once young and hopeful person vanished into thin air. Her presence now a mere memory. She had left me alone, the same way my mother had left me.
I wept for what felt like hours until my tears turned into blood. It had been a few days that I had reverted back to my previous state. Isolating myself again, I shut off all communications with the outside world. I didn't want to hear anything. No worries or reassurances nor any sympathies. I just wanted to be alone.
Sitting on the bed, I curled up into a ball as I shut my eyes close. All I could imagine was Abi, her hopeful smile instantly turning into a bloody smile. Rushing to the bathroom, I threw up instantly. The pain was intense. I hadn't felt such a thing ever in my life. I threw up over and over and over again.
Finally, I lay on the floor clutching my stomach as I gasped for air. My body had given up on moving as it lay almost lifeless on the floor. I had reached a point that even breathing became a burden.
How long has it been since I ate?
I thought to myself, my stomach slowly rumbling. Grabbing onto the sink, I stood up as I stared into the mirror. My body shook profusely as my eyes looked dead. My skin became paler, and my cheeks were slowly sucking inwards. My pupils bolted around my eyes like pinballs as they glowed red. I could feel myself slowly becoming insane. It was terrifying.
Blink.
My eyes flew wide open as I saw a figure glide past behind me. Turning around quickly, my head darted across the bathroom, trying to find the intruder. Finding no one, I stared back into the mirror only to jump back in fear. Staring into the glass reflection, I saw my father, his pitch-black eyes staring deep into me. A gaping hole popped out in the middle of his forehead. His mouth didn't move, yet I knew what he was saying.
"What a fool you are, aren't you? You knew the consequences. And yet you still killed me. And what did it cost you? Your little lover!"
I could hear his laughter playing over and over in my head. His voice irritated me. Like chalk grinding on a blackboard. I clutched onto my ears as I whispered quietly, trying to get rid of his voice from inside my head.
"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You're wrong. You're wrong. Go away. Leave me alone."
"Can't accept the truth? I wish I could see her miserable, pathetic state. Just like your mother. Do you remember her face? The way she died. Like an insect. That is how. And who was the cause of both those reasons? You! You really are my son." He bloated mockingly.
"Shut up!"
I screamed before punching the mirror, breaking it into a million pieces. Small pieces of glass clung onto my skin as blood slowly oozed out. Breathing heavily, I stared at the broken glass on the floor. Picking up a piece of glass, I stared directly at my reflection for a while.
Not long after, I immediately dropped the glass as I could see my father staring at me, his pitch-black eyes tearing into my soul. I could hear his demonic laughter echoing across the room. Curling into a ball, I covered my ears as I whispered to myself, begging for the dreadful, demonic laughter to stop.
The next few days were painful. At random moments in the night, my body would violently shake, waking me up as I would scream out in immense fear. I couldn't understand it myself, but my dreams morphed into more grotesque nightmares. Replays of Abi's death flooded my mind every night as my father stood over me and watched as I suffered in pain.
Sometimes, I could see him in the corner of my room, in the dark, staring right at me. His black eyes filled the entire space as if he could see every inch and corner of my room. He wouldn't speak to me, nor would he laugh anymore. All he did was stare directly at me like a statue.
Every night when I switched off the lights, he would be there watching me as I crawled into bed and fell asleep. I tried my best to ignore him, but his presence gave me a continuous reminder of my failings. My faults. My existence. Days passed as his position inched closer to me slowly.
No words continued to leave his mouth, but as soon as the lights switched off, his body would have inched a millimetre closer to my bed. Watching his slow progression kept me on edge.
What would happen when he reached my bedside?
I couldn't understand anything, but I chose to ignore it. To ignore his presence and the constant reminder of my mistakes. Dealing with the loss of everyone dear to me in my life, I succumbed to the tools of addiction. A bottle of alcohol would always be placed on my desk with a few packs of cigarettes as well. I would smoke every day as well as drink the majority of my time awake. It eased me. The constant throbbing pain in my head slowly eased down when I consumed more.
Some days, I would just sit on the desk, and my head in my hands as a cigarette filled my mouth. My room turned into a foul smell of smoke. Burnt smoke, as if a fire had spread and was constantly alive. Other days, I would lay down on the floor, sometimes in the dark, a bottle in my head and a cigarette in the other.
I would stare at my father, his eyes never leaving my bed but yet still on me as I would reach out the bottle towards him, hoping for a response. Months had passed as I lived in these four walls. I isolated myself here most of the time, like a prison cell, only leaving for the utmost importance of things. My habits had slowly become easily understood and pathetic.
Drink, smoke, drink, smoke, drink, smoke.
That was all my life amounted to. But I had no other choice. I had no reason to live. There is no meaning to my life. No one to turn to, to confide in, to cry to. They had all died. So, I was all alone.
Not entirely.
I thought, staring at my father. He hadn't moved his head to face me at all. But he was nearly there. Nearly to the bed. It was slow and painful, but it was finally over. Whether he killed me or whether he disappeared, I was thankful.
I am thankful that it was all over. I am thankful that I would finally be left alone. Thankful...thankful that he was there. It was odd. The man who brought misery to my life became my ray of hope. His presence weirdly brought me ease. I couldn't understand it.
"Emotions are weird, aren't they dad?" I spoke out loud, imagining that he was listening.
"They change and flow like a river, always taking different turns and paths. I was never able to commit to one direction. And we use them to base everything in our lives. Our morals, ideals, hopes, dreams and passions, work, relations, everything. Something that is so easily corrupted and changeable is the centre of our existence. It is the foundation of our lives. Why is that?" I asked, staring at him.
"Why do we have such a thing? Something that we have no control over and something that we can never understand. We love, we hate, we feel happy, we feel sad, we laugh, and we cry. But we don't control that. We don't understand it. We don't know why we feel such a way for certain things. So why do we allow such a thing to hold such meaning in our hearts? If emotions are the forefront of our day to day lives, then how can we say we choose our own paths when they are the things that govern us?" I continued.
"I don't get it. I don't get them. It's weird, isn't it. We are intellectual beings. We have built things that no one thought was possible. Yet everything we have done is based on such a flimsy concept. We had the emotion of power. Of jealousy. Of fear. Of hate. Of love. All these concepts mix inside our bodies waiting to release. Why can we not understand them?" I asked, sitting up a bottle in my hand.
Staring at him, he had reached my bed but did not move at all. I let out a sigh, as I realised that it was all in my head. I knew that. I could tell it was. But the idea of not being alone for once felt amazing. The man I hated for everything was the one man I kept alive in my mind. I let out a small chuckle, realising how much of an idiot I am.
"Because we are human."
Turning around, I could see my father placing his hand on the bed as he spoke in a low, deep voice. He didn't look at me, and I couldn't even tell if he was speaking to me.
"No one understands emotions. No matter what they say, they don't. People who say they are in love do not understand love. Same for those who hate and those who cry. We can make excuses and our own interpretations, but at the end of the day, everyone has a different meaning. A different view. A different idea. And we can't change that. We can't tell them that you don't understand what you are talking about. Because humans can never accept their faults, their own wrongdoings." He continued.
"They'll retaliate, scream back, shout out, and fight when they are told otherwise. It's best to leave people to their own ideals. We do not have the right to change them, nor should we. Being human means being different. The only thing we can do is accept that we do not know ourselves. Even if the whole world claims they know, say you do not. Shout it out. I do not know. Only then will you understand how to live life." He said, his voice eerily soft.
"The moment God gave us emotions was the moment we stopped being human." I spoke.
"Perhaps. But we can not do anything about it now. We have to live with them. With these concepts. No matter how malleable they are. No matter the fact that we can never utterly understand them. We have to live with them. We can hide them or bottle them up, but they will still be there. Lurking, waiting like a predator. And the moment we slip up, it will all erupt out like a volcano." He replied.
"I can't accept such a thing. Such a concept. It doesn't make sense to me." I replied, resting my head on my knees.
"You don't have to make sense of it. Emotions are nonsensical. They have no meaning outside the fact of just existing. You don't even have to acknowledge them. They exist without your own choice. Let the fools proudly say they understand them. The wise will mock them in secret." He spoke.
"How funny." I said, letting out a chuckle. "All this time I have hated you. I hated the fact that you left me, I hated the fact that you left mom, I hated the fact that you killed her, and I hated the fact that Abi died because of you."
"Was it because of me? Or will you just blame me for your faults?" He asked.
"I'm a coward, so all I can do is blame. Just like every other miserable human on this planet. Every second I saw you, my blood boiled. I felt immense anger at the sight of you. And yet, that anger has left. It's gone. I don't hate you. It's weird. I don't hate you for everything you did. I don't hate you for everything you didn't do. Why? Why have I stopped hating you. Why can't I keep hating you? Tell me, father. Why do I feel this way?" I asked, staring at him, a single tear falling down my cheek.
"I don't know." He replied.
"I don't get it. I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to hate. I don't want to hurt people. But I don't want to love. I want to be alone. I want people to suffer just like I did. Even now, I can feel my mind losing its control. I'm going insane. I can't stop it. Help me. Please." I begged.
"Embrace it. Embrace that insanity. Use it to fuel your every action. Make it your foundation of life. Toss out those emotions and bring in insanity." He spoke.
"Do you regret it?" I asked. "Do you regret killing mom?"
"I don't." He replied blankly. "I don't regret anything I have done in my life. Everything I did was for a reason. And that reason is mine to bear and mine alone. You have to find out what your reason for doing things is."
"You really are the worst. But we are the same. I don't regret killing you. But I do regret a lot of things. I don't have a reason for what I do. And I don't think I will find one." I responded.
"Well then, you have a long life ahead of you to find that reason. It'll be a tough road. Living without a reason is no different than being dead. I wonder what you will do after all this is left behind." He spoke.
"I can't bury the past yet. There is something I have to do." I spoke.
"And what is that?" He asked.
"Destroy everything." I replied.
He let out a smirk. One that was filled with amusement. Slowly, he tilted his head towards me. That was the first time I had felt acknowledgement from him. It was nice. I let out a small, demonic smile replicating his insanity as I stood up and made my way towards him.
Staring up at him, our eyes met as we could tell what was going to happen. I could see a small change in his eyes. A hint of happiness. Happiness that was based over my own insanity. I knew where I was going, and I knew what my actions would result in, but I didn't care. I had to bury the past one way or another. And I knew at that moment that I had turned out just like him. A monster.
My father never showed himself after that night. No more nightmares and no more illusions. After his presence, my mind had finally gone to rest. I had understood everything, and I understood what needed to be done.
Walking around town, everyone watched me from a distance. People didn't know what to say. No one approached me. But I couldn't blame them. They were just afraid. Afraid of being associated with me. As I made my way to my father's house, I saw a few people in suits swarming around the building. Noticing me, they all approached cautiously.
"Are you ***?" One of them asked.
"And if I am?" I replied.
Suddenly, he lunged at me, trying to grab me. Moving out the way in time, the rest of the suited guys followed, chasing me in hopes of detaining me to the floor. Dodging effortlessly, I made my way into the house, locking the door behind. I could hear their screams from outside, but slowly, it died out as I heard them retreat.
After realising that I was safe, I made my way through the abandoned house. The rooms smelt like dead animals, and the furniture had been ripped apart. Walking around, I saw old family portraits placed all over the house, which seemed to date back to as early as the late 1500s. I watched past generations of my family, their faces, and their expressions as they advanced over time.
And then I reached my family. My father in his youth stood tall and firm. My mother, her eyes as beautiful and captivating as ever. They looked...happier. My father's eyes had the same hint of happiness as that night. It was unusual seeing them this happy.
Was I truly the problem?
I thought, placing my hand on the picture.
Mother looked so much happier. I guess Father was right all along. Everything wrong ends up being my fault. Forgive me, mother. Forgive me, Abi. I shouldn't have existed.
Making my way up the stairs, I could feel an unusual uneasiness in the air. I tensed up as I continued to walk down the long corridor towards the same room I killed my father. Walking up to the door, I could feel my heart pounding vigorously as I reached for the doorknob. Letting out a deep breath, I slowly opened the door.
My father's study room had not changed one bit. Everything seemed normal. Walking around its memories of what had occurred in here flashed through my mind. Patches of blood stained on the wall as my father's chair had dried up blood flowing down it. As I walked around his study, I looked for specific files that would help me with what I needed to do.
Father had power. Power is what matters in this world. The only way to rise up to power is to take it off from those with power. I need to find the people who worked with my father. They killed Abi. They have to die.
As I searched around his desk, I found multiple files that had names of people my father was in contact with. Reading through them, I knew the majority of the people of here.
Father wasn't lying when he said he knew people. These guys are the big deal.
Grabbing the files, I left the house glancing one last look at my father's study and shutting the door for the last time. Sitting in my room, I looked for clues on how I could find these people. Albert had aided me in my quest ecstatic that I had finally started to move on with life. As we searched, we found multiple horrible events connected with these people.
Rape, murder, fraud, corruption. These guys are the worst. What was the father's reason for collaborating with such people?
The more I dug, the more curious I became about my father and his past. After a few weeks of learning and digging, we found the houses of these people. Immediately, I began to pack my belongings as I prepared for a journey.
"Are you sure about this, young master?" Albert asked.
"I'm sure. I have a lot of things to regret in life. I don't want another." I replied.
"If you go down this path, you'll end up becoming no different from a murderer. You won't be human anymore. Are you certain this is the life you want to live? The life Lady Abi and your mother would want you to live?" He asked.
"They're dead. It doesn't matter what they would want me to do anymore. I need to do this. I need to finally bury my past. It may be selfish, and it may be evil, but I never claimed to be a good person. Humanity is trash. All I'm doing is fitting in with the rest of the bunch. Abi and mother are gone. And the people who are part of this are still out there living and breathing. The thought of that infuriates me. My only reason to kill is my own selfishness. That is all there is to it." I replied.
"I wish you luck on your journey then, young master. He said to which I nodded.
Sitting on the train, I readied myself for the terrible journey ahead of me. Locating the houses had been a challenge, but I knew that entering in was a bigger problem. Most of these houses had an immense amount of security, and finding my way in would be tricky. However, I knew I could not back down now.
Walking up to the first house, I carried a small revolver and a dagger in my clothes. I waited patiently for the night to fall before I began making my way in. Looking around, guards were stationed all around the place holding guns. As I watched, I noticed gaps that I could slip into to make my way in, but the opening was tight, and I had to be perfect.
Carefully, I made my way down through the tall trees, watching my every step. Reaching the point between two guards, I threw a small metallic object at one from behind and quickly threw another at the other guard. As they grouped together to look at the objects, I slipped in with the shadows and broke into the house swiftly.
Making my way to the room, I found an old man sleeping in bed. A white beard and no hair all around his room were trophies and portraits of money. Wasting no time, I grabbed my dagger and slit his throat before slipping back into the shadows as I made my way to my next targets.
12th May
Hello. It has been a little over a month since I began my journey. As of now, I have killed around five of the people my father knew. It has been a gruelling and tough experience, and travelling across America has been challenging. However, my conviction has allowed me to do myself through such terrible times.
My plan has been pretty simple as of now. Find a way to distract the guards, slip into the house, and slit the throat of the people. For some, I gave a quick and peaceful death, and for those who had committed horrible acts, I allowed them time to scream and wail before finishing them off.
Currently, I am on the train, making my way towards the last three people on my list. After this, I will have finally left everything behind and be able to move forward. All this killing has corrupted my soul. I can feel myself losing these malleable emotions I once never understood.
But I am grateful. I am thankful that I am able to let go of these useless concepts. I can now move forward completely anew as a new person. I had always wanted to be a psychologist in life, just like my mother, so I intend to complete my education and become a world-renowned psychologist.
But this insanity that is slowly creeping over me is steering me down a dark path. I want to experiment, to learn, to discover. But I fear my actions will become inhumane. My morals and beliefs were shaken and destroyed. I once hoped for a peaceful world in which I was able to help everyone.
Now, I have started to lose that ideal. I can see the world for how it truly is. It is an ugly place filled with ugly people. People who don't deserve to live. Someone has to slaughter them, and I shall take that up.
And after I have accomplished everything I wanted to, I shall die alone in a random corner on this planet contempt with what I have done. Until then, I can not die. Until I accomplish what I need to, I must live on.
On another note, the nightmares have slowly started to come back. Mostly about Abi. I deeply miss her. Her presence brought so much ease to me. I know that there is no point focusing on the past, but my feeble heart can not deny what I had felt back then.
My heart aches some nights in her memory, and some nights, it wishes that she would leave me alone. I am uncertain of what I should live for. What my reason of living is. I don't know. I may never know.
Someone like me shouldn't be able to have a reason to live. I don't deserve to live. To feel emotions, to love and hate. To feel happy and sad. But I can't do anything about it. Living is my punishment that I must fulfil.
I am about to arrive at my next destination. I don't know when I shall be able to converse here again, but until then, take care and wish me luck. Godspeed.
1st June
I have finally done it. I have killed them all. All of them. I didn't spare a single person. Like an animal, I murdered them in cold blood. Not caring for the consequences nor the people that I have taken them from. I murdered them. I did. With these very own hands that I am writing with now. In a weird sense, I am still in shock that I committed such horrific acts.
The screams of some haunt my dreams, yet instead of feeling regret, I feel happiness. My face can not stop smiling. My body loves it. It loves the feeling of murder. Albert was right. Once you kill, you can never stop. Your body grows accustomed to it, and it sticks with you. I killed them. Writing it over and over again brings me so much joy.
Oh god, what have I done? What have I become? Will I ever be able to face Abi and my mother in the next life? Will I be able to stand proud the next day and the day after and the day after? Can I truly continue to live on after doing such a thing?
I can see the blood staining my hands right now. The blood of my victims. But they were terrible people. Scum. I cleansed the world of their filth. I have done nothing wrong, nor will I regret such a thing ever. But my mind wants more. My heart yearns for more.
That spot that was once for Abi now only wants to kill and devour. Humans truly are terrifying creatures. Being able to become such monsters so quickly is terrifying. But, I suppose that this is our true nature.
If killing has brought me to this state, then I can feel myself becoming more human as time goes on. I can feel myself understanding the world. The universe. I need more. I need to know more. I need to be more human. But I have no one to kill. No motive nor reason. Everyone who stood in my way has died. Now, what should I do? What can I do?
I must blend in back with society for a while to gain more education. And then, I shall start my own works. Becoming a psychologist is my new aim. Maybe it will stop me from yearning to kill. Maybe my hunger will dissipate after I have committed myself to another approach.
I must return home quickly. Before I lose myself. What a hilarious joke, isn't it? I act like I haven't gone insane yet, even though I clearly have. My mind has been out of touch with reality for a long time. Or has it been more in sync with reality than ever before?
Life truly is amusing. I can't wait to uncover more about this world. More about this universe we reside in. What else could be lurking outside? What else is lurking within us? The thought of it is exhilarating.
I have a feeling that life will become even more interesting. The past has now been buried, and I am able to rise up to power without anyone interfering. All that remains is to now succeed in the next part of life. I must, however, give one last nod to my past.
I genuinely loved you, Abi. You were amazing and everything I needed. You brought so much joy and happiness to my life, and I could have never imagined a life without you.
Mother, forgive me for everything. Forgive me for being the cause of your death and the cause of your suffering. Your son has finally found his way, and I shall follow your path for the rest of my life.
Father, I truly hate you. You have caused me nothing but pain and misery. You took the two hopes in my life and brought me into a dark hole. Yet, we have never been more alike than ever. You gave me a new purpose, a new path, and turned me into a new person. Everything that I do now is in your path and because of your actions. You shaped my future even after death.
I am glad. I'm glad that you are my father and glad that I killed you. Thank you and goodbye.