I'm completely lost in thought as I focus with all of my strength on the shining metal in front of me. Actually, I'm more concentrated on not going any closer to it than the blade itself. It was right there in front of me, winking in the fading light, teasing me, urging me, begging me. I crawl a little closer. My heart is pounding hard; I can feel the sweat begin to bead on my forehead. This feeling, longing inside me, practically pulls me toward it, I feel it in my chest, blocking my throat. I want to cry out, but I mustn't make a noise.
The other boys were sleeping soundly in their beds. Lucky bastards. I haven't got a decent night's sleep in months. Nightmares and nighttime temptations keep me awake. Even when I fool myself into thinking I can sleep for a little bit, I immediately open my eyes, horrified by my what I see behind my eyelids.
I guess that's what I deserve though. I was a murderer after all. Even if I never killed with my own hands, I caused countless deaths. It was my fault anyway. I deserve these nightmares, this pain. I deserve to bleed, so I should just bleed all ready!
NO! I won't! I bury my face in my hands and curl up on the floor.