Be quiet.

I tried to protect them from the monsters I really did. But the only monster was me. I begged and pleaded for them to stop. I just wanted them to be quiet. They're taunts and laughter only made things worse. The echoes of their screaming will forever ring in my ears. And then it was silent. The way the delicate light left they're eyes, it was almost beautiful. And for once I can genuinely smile. My world is finally quiet again.Too quiet. The silence starts to eat at me. I have to do something. Make things right again. The possibilities are endless, so very endless. I can't decide. I begin to cry turning into a pile of self-loathing pity surrounded by my wrongdoing. Yet the only thing I can think about is "how do I make things right". That's when I wipe away the tears that stain my cheeks and look around me at all that I've done. The terror I caused. The innocent people I hurt with my own guilty conscience. I start to feel the anger building up again but I choose to swallow it. This is my fault, my doing, and I'm going to fix it. I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. The tired bags under my eyes are darker than the day before. My eyes duller than the aged paint on my desolate walls. I look down at my hands. They're covered in the blood of the innocent people. I wash them under the cool stream of water coming from the faucet. I scrub away every last spot knowing I'll never be able to forget. I turn off the faucet getting ready to face my reality once more. I look around at the mess I've made. A swirling mass of guilt and sadness poisons my stomach and rises along with the bile that spews from my lips. I ponder whether or not that bitter taste will remain in my mouth as long as it did the last time. Rapid images of them are all that is left of my remembrance as I peer upon their horrified faces frozen in time, these are not faces of people who I once loved who died peacefully in a humane manner. There were three. Three lives that all ended by the will of my own hand. All because I couldn't control it. Not with the last time and not with this time. All it must remind me of is the severity of my crimes, I'll allow my memory to soak up the realization through my senses that I am truly a monster.

The metallic taste in the air brings me back to my purpose as I shuffle out the door leaving behind a trail of bloody footprints. I had to leave. Drive away and forget. Except not forget. I'll never forget. As I walked to my car I could feel the clock ticking again. Where do I go from here? Should I repeat the decisions I made last time? Runaway without a trace and change my name. That's the first decision that landed me here. I know I don't want to continue being a monster but relocation and masking, making myself one of them, is my only option. The jangle of my keys pulls me back into reality and before I realize it I'm hurriedly slipping off bloody clothes and pulling on clean fresh ones from a backpack hidden behind the passenger seat. The clean smell of laundry soap being washed through my nostrils is almost comforting compared to the scent of blood that's been almost suffocating since the accident. You'd never expect a monster like me to experience comfort huh? After removing every article of blood-soaked fabric I place it gently on the concrete next to my car along with the shoes I had been wearing, taking a moment to change them with the pair in my bag immediately. I douse them in lighter fluid and drop a match, swiftly starting the car and pulling out of the library parking lot watching the flames dance in the rearview mirror. It's pathetic. I'm pathetic. I promised myself things wouldn't end the same way as last time. My grip tightens on the steering wheel. Music. Music will help distract me from the rush of thoughts. I click the small button on the stereo. A soft tune fills the car. A familiar tune. One from my childhood. This was my mothers' favorite song. I am transferred into a memory from when I was young. And innocent. I was sitting in the backseat, my headphones resting in my lap. My parents screaming at each other. The song playing in the background of their bickering. My father raised his hand to my mother's face and backhanded her. This was the first time he ever hit her but it wouldn't be the last. I didn't cry I just put my headphones on and pretended I didn't see it happen. I hit a bump in the road and jolt back to reality. My heart aches a little at the remembrance of my mother. I drift back into the memories of my childhood. When we got home my father called me weak and sent me to my room. I didn't eat dinner that night. I woke the next day to my father drunk and passed out on the couch. My mothers lifeless body in the kitchen surrounded in a puddle of blood. That was the day I snapped. I woke my father out of his slumber with a hammer to the head. I didn't stop until he was dead. He took away the one person that loved me. So I got rid of him. The song on the radio ends and I enter reality once more to change the station. I've been distracted for so long that I don't see the truck headed straight for me. It smashes into the passenger side of my stolen SUV launching my vehicle off the highway and tumbling down a hill. I don't scream. I just close my eyes and let it happen. My vehicle smashes into the dirt one last time sending an ethereal peace through my body. Everything is quiet. Just how I like it. The last thought I have before everything goes black is "I can finally rest".

The end