It's cold and I feel blood that is covering my hands. The feeling of regret and pain begin to fill my mind as I looked to the bodies lying in front of me.
I do not know who they are or who they were but what I did know was that my thirst for blood was all but quenched. In a city with hatred and pain my life became this unending killing spree that I couldn't keep myself from participating in.
Richard, a name I had all but forgotten, used to belong to me. When I was born my parents put me in an orphanage and left. Over the years I lived knowing that the people I was born to completely disowned me and left. After many years, on a strange day, something changed in me. I was a some what care free kid who never paid attention to any one or anything because it all seemed useless to me and I never had friends for the fact I hated people, and not like some people, I mean all people.
No one bullied me, no one talked to me, and no one knew me which was great because that's the way I wanted it to be but people always have other ideas in mind. I don't hate life and I'm not suicidal but sometimes I do get this urge, though I don't know what it is. It's like this feeling to lose myself and be something else entirely but I don't know how to do that.
I would sit in my classes at school and think of ways to have fun or be happy but nothing came to mind. No friends to hang out with and no parents to talk to, I was alone to think about it. I still lived in an orphanage since no one ever adopted me.
My life seemed eternally boring and empty, and I always thought that I was going to grow old and die alone. I know that sounds pretty messed up but what else could I think since no one would talk to me or even listen to me if I asked them something.
I now sit in a white room with nothing but a table, looking at the hand-cuffs that are around my wrists, the only thing I can think about is him. JAMES, the guy who got me into all of this. It all started suddenly and out of nowhere, it was my turn to wash the dishes at the orphanage.
I had cleaned everything except the knives, which I didn't like to do because I was afraid of cutting myself. I grabbed one of them and used a rag to get soap on it and wash it off. I managed to clean it and I set it aside and moved onto the next one. While washing it I some how cut myself through the rag.
“Crap,” I said as I gripped it tightly with the rag.
I then opened the rag and saw all of the blood that now surrounded the finger and I was fascinated by how it looked. I felt something I had never felt before, a feeling of enjoyment and happiness. One of the women working at the orphanage came up and yelled, “Oh no!,” as she grabbed my finger and rapped it back up with the rag.
“Why didn't you tell some one you were hurt?” she asked pulling my hand towards the running water.
“I don't know really, I just got distracted,” I replied.
“With what?” she asked.
“Just thinking really.” She then began to rub soap in it to clean it out. Pain shot through my hand and I began to yell.
“MOTHER OF GOD!” I yelled as I pulled my hand away.
“Be careful,” she said grabbing my hand again. This time she put a band-aid on it.
“Thanks,” I told her while I was holding my now repaired finger.
“No problem, except next time tell someone or else it won't close and heal,” she said.
“I will,” I replied walking out of the kitchen.
I looked at my bandaged finger and I tried to think of why my blood captivated me so much. I then walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. For awhile I sat there just steering at myself with no real reason. While I was looking in the mirror I began to hear someone talking behind me.
“What are you doing?” said the person. I quickly turned around and saw that no one was there.
'What the hell?' I thought as I turned back to the mirror.
“I said: what are you doing?” said the random voice again.
This time before I turned around, the voice said, “Stop! Just look in the mirror and stop turning around.”
“Who said that?” I asked looking around.
I waited around for an answer, but no one answered. Eventually I just walked out of the bathroom and began to think of the event that had just transpired. I thought for awhile on what I could've heard and I remembered back when I was a child I always talked to myself.Only it wasn't me I was talking to, it was someone else I'm sure, because no one was ever around.
At around eight o' clock, I decided to try to get some sleep. While I laid in the dark, I heard the voice start talking to me again. “Can't sleep?” asked the voice. I got up and looked around my bedroom but it was no use since it was too dark to see anything.
“Who are you?” I asked and, again, the voice just stopped talking so I quickly sprang up from my bed and turned on the light.
“Who keeps talking to me? What the hell do you want?” I looked around the room and saw that there was no one there.
I then got back into bed but kept the light on just in case. Soon I drifted off to sleep and forgot all about the voice.
I managed to get some sleep until it was time to go to school. I got dressed with blue jeans and a black t-shirt and I walked into the kitchen and made myself some cereal. As soon as I finished it I headed off to school.
Everyday I walked to school while most kids get a ride, but I couldn't stop thinking about the voice or who it belonged to. I then began to think that I was probably going insane and that I needed to just focus on school and ignore it.
When I got to school, I hurried to my first class so I could find something to concentrate. Luckily, I didn't hear the voice all day, which was good because if I would've tried to talk back to it while in school would've made me look crazy. It's not even a matter of looking crazy as it is a matter of attracting unwanted attention. Once I got back to the orphanage, I went into my room and started working on my homework.
After finishing it, I went outside and thought I would go to the park and just hang out. On my way there, I would occasionally hear someone from behind me calling my name, which confused me because very few people actually knew it. Every time I would turn around there would be either people who were just walking behind me or no one at all.
I tried not to turn around to often because I know it looks strange when the guy walking in front of you keeps looking back. When I got to the park I sat down on one of the benches and scanned the area. Creepy, I know, but I had to make sure that no one was following me or calling my name. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. While sitting there, I saw many people come and go and after some time I just left and went back to the orphanage.
I went to my room right as soon as I got back and laid down in my bed to clear my head.
“Trying to forget about me?” asked the disembodied voice. I sat there and didn't say anything and just tried to ignore it.
“DON'T IGNORE ME!” it screamed.
“YOU WILL PAY ATTENTION TO ME!” I got up and ran out of my room to get away from the voice. About half way down the hall, I immediately stopped.
“You can't run away from me,” it said with a devious tone.
Against my own will I was then turned around and walked into the bathroom to look into the mirror.
“This is who I am,” it said.
“I am you and I CONTROL YOU!” I then instantly woke up in my room, my head was throbbing, and I began to wonder if what happened actually occurred or did I dream it. I then tried to sit up in my bed but I felt a sharp pain in my right side. I removed my blanket and saw that I had a bloody bandage of my right side.
“WHAT THE HELL!,” I yelled as I stared at the wound.
I peeled back the bandage and saw that there was a short but deep vertical cut.
“How did I get this?” I said to myself.
“From yours truly of course, how else?” asked the voice.
“Why would you cut me?” I asked worried about what the answer may be.
“It's not to punish you, if that's what you mean. It's merely a reminder of what I have done,” said the voice with an evil tone.
“What did you do?”
“I did what I have always wanted to do, I KILLED!”
I then jumped out of my bed out off shock and with the sudden jult my side began to burn.
“YOU DID WHAT?”
“I killed someone, and to be honest, it wasn't all that hard. The guy only yelled a little and I cleaned up afterwards.”
“Stop. STOP! GET THE FUCK OUT OFF MY HEAD!”
“NO! You need me, I am all of your wants and desires put into a living essence. We are in this together so if I go, I will take you with me,” the voice said with a reassuring wickedness.
“What makes you think I would ever want to kill another person?” I asked scared.
“Because I am you, so stop pretending I'm not.”
“YOU ARE NOT ME!” I yelled.
“Stop denying it, if you do you will put the lives in this orphanage in danger.”
I would have tried to argue but I didn't want to see some one else die and it seemed way to dangerous to mess around with. I then saw a wooden box on my desk.
“What's with the box?” I asked the voice.
“Oh, that? That's just a little gift.” Then the voice made me walk over it.
“Would you like to see what's inside?” it asked. “No,” I said fearing what may be inside.
“Too bad,” it said as it placed my hands on the box and made me slowly raise the lid. Inside the box was a plain white mask with eyes cut into it and nothing else. “What the hell is this?” I asked picking it up to examine.
“It's our new face. It is what the city will see us as,” said the voice as it put on the mask. “And call me James. James is a fitting name for me."