Malignant

There are so many reasons why I do this. I’ve never in my entire life felt the urge to kill someone with so much desire. So I can see their excruciating face expressions. To see the dark red liquid of wonderful blood dripping from my fingertips; see the pain in that person’s eyes. 

I guess I’m selfish. So selfish that I’d kill to get what I want. I want to experience the absolute agonizing, painful intensity that makes my blood rush through my veins and makes my heart thump a little more energetically. The more I did this, the more I felt free. 

I’m almost 20 years old. I have no job. No girlfriend; no life. I live in a small apartment, with dents and scratches and in a neighborhood where robberies are always happening and I always hear incessant, nonstop gun shooting. I’ve always disliked gun violence, but this was the only place I could afford after my parents abruptly kicked me out of their house and left me with $500. And as time went by, I only saved up to $34 so far; only enough money to buy a couple of snacks. I have spent most of my life living like a slob, and my only liking was alcohol and marijuana. I did know that one day I will get kicked out of my apartment for not paying the rent, which I obviously didn’t seem to care about. I’m not saying that life is horrible—there’s at least one place I like to go. Here in Louisiana, we have a terribly huge amount of bars all over the place. To be frank, that’s where all the low-lives go. It’s my favorite because I have at least one or two people to interact with so I feel less isolated. Despite that, there’s nothing to fix how useless my life is.

Sometimes, I wonder if I’m normal or actually just demented. Anger and frustration affects people mentally and physically. Sometimes I think there’s nothing in the world that brings me happiness, but that’s just me being inconsiderate to myself.. Sometimes, I don’t even hesitate to just break something in my house. I’ve learned that there’s a wrong way to do everything. A wrong way to eat, a wrong way to breathe, a wrong way to live. But that just brings me more anxiety, so I choose not to think of it.

“Hey, Saeki.” Eliav said to me, as I walked through the tiny door of the bar and to a chair to sit.

“Hi..” It always annoyed me how enthusiastic people were towards me. But then again, I didn’t hate it. It made me feel visible for once. I guess that makes me childish--the desire in wanting attention from others.

Ms. Yu, my psychiatrist, has always despised me. She tends to act like she cares for me when she really doesn’t. Just by watching her facial expressions, I’ve started to think she might quit her job because of me one day. I mean, I can’t blame her. I can be a real pain in the ass when I want to be. Sometimes I don’t understand her. She wants me to tell her about all of my hallucinations and thoughts, even then after, she’d either call me a freak or ominously whisper things under her breath, and I feel the urge to do something bad to her.

Sometimes, the morning was beautiful. The blue sky always brings me delight. Few things did. Instead, today was cloudy and was very cold outside. Usually the cool atmosphere didn’t bother me, so even if there wasn't a blue sky, it wasn’t as bad. Although I fall asleep at night, in my intolerable bed, I always wake up with a black mark on my arm that looks like my skin is cracking, but after 3-4 hours, it vanishes. So I knew I was literally breaking and not just inside. It looked like a bruise with slight cracks on it. I’ve always had unknown and weird marks on my body but I’ve never encountered something as unbelievable, but existent at the same time, as this. I like to think of it as a demon writing on me or a strange sign every time I turn off my mind and go into nothingness mode. Sleep. 

I currently had $27 in my pocket and it was about time I used it. I went to a hardware store for only one reason. When I was a child, I’ve always wanted one specific knife. One so pretty and admirable; a Condor Bucket knife. It sounds expensive but the hardware store was selling it for just $20. I never knew why I wanted to get the knife but I took desire in it. The knife was so endurable. I liked how it fit in my palm perfectly. The silver blade had a swirl-like design on the ends, and the handle was a beige color with deep, soft lines going down the middle. I didn't have enough money to buy the knife sharpener, so I was just going to find a way to sharpen it without having to lend any money.

I was walking around the hardware store, knowing that I can’t buy anything else with just $3 other than a bag of Fritos. A wide man with temporary tattoos approached me.

“If you aren’t going to buy anything, just leave the store.” His voice was deep and hostile. And Instead of obeying, I ignored him and walked around the corner to the next aisle. The huge man started to follow me. As he started to grow closer, I became uneasy. My fingers started to twitch, and just like that. I swiftly turned to face him and stabbed him in the hip with the knife. I quickly removed the knife from his pelvis. As the man yelled in agony and pain, I watched him slowly crouch onto the ground, his hands covering the hip where I stabbed him--trying to keep the blood from running. I stared at him, eyes wide. I didn’t think the knife would already be sharp. I slowly look down to see the blood tracing my palm and rolling down the bladed knife, dripping onto the floor. I was starting to accept that I might be more of a lunatic than just a normal guy with no life. I couldn’t move a single inch of my body. Finally, I quickly ran out of the store and headed to the nearest alleyway at the end of the street.

“Fuck,” I said to myself. I stopped at the alley. I dropped the knife onto the ground next to a dumpster, my hand trembling as I stood there against the wall. After a while, I brawly ripped a half of my shirt off and removed the blood from my hands and knife. Sweat started to drip from my forehead. I could hear a ringing in my ears and everything suddenly becoming a little blurry. I was having a panic attack; I could barely breathe. That was the first time I’ve done something so impetuous and reckless. I liked it.  

2 years later, I became a murderer. There are so many reasons why I do this. I’ve never in my entire life felt the urge to kill someone with so much desire. So I can see their excruciating face expressions. To see the dark red liquid of wonderful blood dripping from my fingertips; see the pain in that person’s eyes. 

I guess I’m selfish. So selfish that I’d kill to get what I want. I want to experience the absolute agonizing, painful intensity that makes my blood rush through my veins and makes my heart thump a little more energetically. The more I did this, the more I felt free. Free from my problems and free from life. I wanted to take away my pain by putting more pain onto others. That gave me happiness. For the first time in my life, I’ve never felt more delighted, so sinister. 

Everyday I continued the same stimulating--yet, disastrous routine. As devastating as it was, I still couldn’t give up on it. I woke up in the morning, pulling a black beanie over my head and walking straight out of the door with the same clothes I’ve been wearing since yesterday.

I’ve been watching my target for approximately 4 days; this was the 5th day. She was 1 out of 6 people that I was planning on killing. Yui Sara; a high school girl. Age of 18. Senior. I was planning on killing her. I knew her address; her name; her whole fucking identity. Her hair was a slight blondish-brown and her eyes were a hazel green. She was a good person. So sad that her last day had to end here. I honestly couldn’t help myself.

Yesterday I attached a mic on one of her clothing; hoping she’d pick out the piece I set it on and wear it today. Luckily for me, she did. I knew where she was going. I heard her talking violently to her parents about a swimming practice. I knew she was going to be located at her school, Fuuka Academy, today afternoon. 

I was so excited; so relieved to be able to experience this for the 3rd time. And suddenly all of that excitement floated away in a split second. In such a little time did my happiness have to last. 

The mic started to make a strange sound that I couldn't be so sure of.

I almost panicked. The mic must’ve been broken. At this moment, I decided to follow her track. I wasn’t going to go to her house. I was going to show up at her destination before she even arrived. I was going to kill her on the spot--on that spot. 

There I was, waiting. I was in the girls’ locker room, hiding near a row full of lockers when Yui suddenly approached. Why did she arrive so early..?

“Hello?” Did she know I was here? Did she see me walk in?..Did she know who I was? “I know you’re there so come out,” She said, referring to me. I froze. “You’re the one that planted this mic on my jacket, right?” She started to laugh, “You think I didn’t know?”

“W-who are you?” I finally asked, stuttering. I thought it was best to play dumb so she would least expect I’m trying to murder her! If this goes wrong, she might call the cops on me. I’ve never been in a situation like this before, I had thought just then.

WHAT DO YOU THINK WILL HAPPEN NEXT? :)