how to rip your heart out

Once upon a time...once upon a time? All stories start that way. This one on the other hand will not. Before this story begins, I feel obligated to tell you, the reader, that this is not an ordinary story. Your sense of logic and morality will be questioned, and you will begin to understand the complex emotions behind the hatred of humanity that festers, even now, within my very soul, waiting, to fully take me over once I have been allowed to snap as they say.

And so our story begins with a young man, me actually. On the outside, I am completely normal, albeit a little awkward. And yet behind this mask of normalcy, there is a desperate, violent urge; it is something I must combat every day, ensuring that my perfect mask of composure is kept. And so I wander the halls of my school with my girlfriend...I have lunch with my friends...I attend classes...I go to work...I do my homework...I relax in my house. Every minute wanting to lash out at anyone, make them suffer and bleed, just to watch what happens. I want to feel slippery blood in my hands, watch it pour out of a body as I know that I am completely draining the body of all life and hope. Not caring who it is, just the fact that they are living and I don't want them to be. The power to take...it consumes me, fascinates me...the one thing I hold above all others. But what happens when the thing you want to take is your own, the one you love, more than anything in the world? When the slightest comment she makes fills you with a passion, an urge, to grab her by the throat and press her against the wall...squeeze her throat, listen to her gasping for breath...you want to undress her, tear the cloth off in shreds, stare at her perfect pale body...and then ravage her beyond recognition or necessity...you cease to be human as you take her violently, claim her as yours...you cannot be human as you give in to the rhythm of taking. She tightens around you, and it is the best feeling to take a knife from pocket and carve your initials into her...to hear her scream. That's the only reason you are doing any of this, to be over her, above her, to know in some corner of your irrational mind that you have power and that it feels good.