As a child, have you ever wondered what the inside of a human looks like?

I know I have, you know it's funny how I found out. No I didn't learn it in school, I found out the hard way. Let me tell you how this happened.

First off let me tell you my name, it's Mason, and It was late in the evening when that thought first came to my mind. I had been at lunch when I had heard that we were going to be learning what the inside of a human body looked like next week from a nearby student. Since he was in the same class as me, I believed what he said. I muttered something under my breath because I knew that I didn't want to learn that in such an easy way.

As a kid, I always loved finding stuff out in the hardest ways I possibly could. Like this website, for example. I found it because my friend mentioned scary stories he found online. So I went to look for them- without asking what the name of the site was - and I found it. After I had heard of these stories the same day, I heard we were going to study the body. I went searching for it immediately when I got home. When I finally found this site I read every story I could find, no matter how gruesome it was. I loved every one of them, and that's when I decided how I'd learn that lesson on the human body the hard way.

After about two nights of packing up every tool I'd need and thanking mom for lending me the tools for an "examination project", I went to go find who I'd cut open.

Unfortunately, I didn't find anyone on the first day. I got beat up by some town bullies the next day though that made me realize who'd I cut open. It was clear as day; it'd be one of them. So that night, I followed one of those bullies home and saw that he was home alone. I knew this bully myself and he was extremely lazy. I waited for him to go and take a nap before sneaking in.

His house was a wreck, and it was almost impossible to make my way to the couch where the bully was sleeping on. Once reaching the couch, I set the bag down and opened it up. I grabbed a surgical knife, and to make sure the kid wouldn't wake up, I pushed the knife into his chest.

It didn't go as planned, and he woke up screaming his lungs out. I put him to sleep with a few more stabs, and once he'd gone still again, I cut him open.

His body was red, and I mean very red. I took out a text book to help me identify each of the organs: one heart, two kidneys, some lungs, a stomach, and so on. After I identified them each several times, I stitched the poor boy back up and left his house.

After I got home I realized my parents weren't here so I went upstairs to clean off everything. I cleaned off my mom's knives and put them in her room, I've got to remember to thank her later. I've washed my own clothes and taken the longest shower of my life as well.

While I'm typing this, it's been a week since I cut that bully open and I was at the top of my class when the lesson came up. I just finished watching the news with my parents. Apparently, the very same boy I cut open was murdered.

I felt a bit sad for his family's loss, but I know it wasn't my fault. All I did was look at his organs. The boy died of multiple stab wounds. The police even found the culprit and are about to raid his/her house. Hm, isn't that strange? Wait, I need to go for a minute. Someone's knocking at my door.