CLOCKWORK
Have you ever thought to yourself? You know sit there all alone is some special place and think. Think about how things are or used to be. How things were before something bad happened. Well, if so you know how I feel on a regular basis. After she died I didn't know what to do with myself. I was angry with god and upset with myself. I almost threw myself off the road. Crazy? That's what they all said. Now, I'm stuck in one place, 24/7 and I can't get out. It's the same thing every night. The long, heart wrenching, and painful screaming. The crying, it's so bad. As you lay here in your room and think. It's literally clockwork. Once the lights go out, the pain and suffering starts. Day by day there is someone who can't take it and eventually is put out. I wonder and dream for my day to come. I can tell you one thing, and that would be to never be where I am. You're asking huh? Simple words for the simple mind. I'm sick.
It all started about a year ago. Because god forbid I don't know what today's day is. They won't tell me. It's like that here, they don't people going insane. Well, back to my story. It was the 22nd of June and it was beginning to become a hot and lousy summer. I had just gotten back together with my girlfriend Kae and we were having a night out to our selves. The moon was full and the windows to the truck were starting to fog up. Well, I had a couple of friends end up joining us at the graveyard. Every Friday night we would go there and tell out our fantasy's and dreams. Well, my number one fantasy was to be like Hannibal Lecture or some major serial killer like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre guy. I always wanted to slaughter a human. I eventually told them when it came to my turn and no one though it was funny. I became the outcast. I had something wrong with me. The sad part was, I could control the urge. Not with all of them around me. I became hungry and longed for the thirst of blood. When Kae and I were alone. I took my chance and cut her open across the stomach and began to rip organs out. Gross? No, I would never call it gross. I was thinking more on the lines of delightful or exciting.
The screaming I just couldn't handle it. The blood and her insides spilled across the ground. I couldn't bear to think about what I had done. I was twisted, but I loved it. The sad part I would say is I never had the chance to get a bite. Frantically, I began digging a shallow grave and I buried her. I gathered up what was left of her on the ground and I threw it in the front seat of the car. I sat there beside her grave my hand atop of the mound. Her screams began muffled and I was ecstatic to think I had killed her. Not the way I intended to, but she was dead. And I was glad because deep inside me knew she had suffered. I began to laugh and cry at the same time. Wondering how would god accept me into his kingdom after I had committed a mortal sin? Someone called the cops on me and they found me here the next morning. I was then taken away from my home. I haven't seen them since.
Now, I'm tortured and can't ever be let out. Until they think I'm sane enough. It was all a fantasy. Something that we all dream about. We all dream about killing our parents, siblings, and friends. But, you never follow through. But, I did and look at where I ending up. Lost within my own mind. No food, little water, medication every hour, no visitors, and most off no people. It's clockwork. On the minute of every hour. I'm checked upon to make sure I'm still shackled down to my bed. To make sure I can't escape. To make sure I can't kill. Its prison but you don't know what that is. You don't know what it's like to be the bad guy on the inside. But, I watch them all and I wait until my time will come. Until I'm well enough to catch them when they let their guard down. When I can take one down like the whimsical prey that they are. When I can let the thirst in me is filled. When I can kill again.
But we all know that won't happen and I'm forever stuck here in this place. It is quite beautiful though. Except for the screaming. I can hear every once and a while the sound of freedom outside the bar on my window and I dream I'm a beautiful bird who flies through the air. With no fret of worry on his brow. And he flies far and long until his little wings flap no more. Till he reaches freedom. I dream I'm that little bird. I know that my fantasy.
THE END