I sat there on the edge of the bed, staring outside. It was already midnight and the hospital personnel had already locked all the doors to the rooms. I watched through the window as the drops of rain pelted its glass - as well as the windscreen and rusted iron bars in front of it.
It was strange watching the world outside through the rusted thin cylinders that intersected with it vertically - dividing the view into separate little sections. But a clear unobstructed view was a small price to pay for regaining my sanity.
Not that I'm insane - perhaps temporarily, but not really. I just use it as an excuse to stay here. I know it would be too dangerous if I lived outside. The bars help ease my peace of mind - making me feel as if I was trapped here inside this hospital, this room. But I knew deep down that it would never in a million years hold me back. It was just a symbol.
I thought back during that time when my own grandfather shot me and I first turned into this. I was so confused back then, so full of anger, so full of rage, so full pain - pain of having been betrayed by the only family I had left. It wasn't what you would call a possession; no, I wasn't possessed by the devil. The actions I took were by my own volition, not some supernatural force controlling me. Of course, I hadn't thought of this back then. I was too confused, too panic-stricken. When I arrived here, exhausted from experience of flight and all that had just happened, I couldn't think straight. It was too fantastical even for me. The cops found me and questioned me. I couldn't answer anything back then. I was too shocked to say anything except ramble on incoherently about what had happened to me. They thought I was crazy, of course, and placed me here.
That turned out to be an unexpected blessing. The time spent here gave me the chance to collect my thoughts and think over the past events.
After my mother died, I thought I had a grasp of what evil was. Toshin personified it for me. But I know now that it wasn't evil, just a force of nature. It was beyond moral standings of right and wrong. It just did what it was supposed to do. No, the realization of evil came to me through a bullet. Greed; that was what drove my grandfather - a lust for power. That was what drove my father too. And his pact with the devil personified that evil. It was not the Toshin, it was me.
I had power now - real power. I felt it within me, growing stronger each passing day. I knew that, if I wanted to, I could slaughter every living being here in this hospital - or simply just tear open the bars and escape. It was a power that tempted me everyday; I was a Mishima in blood, after all. I knew I had the same capacity for evil as my father and grandfather. I wanted that power, though I also knew I needed to supress it for the safety of those around me. But sometimes want is much more powerful than need.
I took one last glance at the drenched city below. Then closed my eyes and sat crossed-legged at the center of the bed. I had started practicing meditation since I arrived here, to control the urges. From outside the halls I could hear screams of anxiety and fear from the other patients. At first the constant screaming and their pleadings of innocence distracted me. But as time went on, I used this to strengthen my concentration and harden my resolve.
It was strange watching the world outside through the rusted thin cylinders that intersected with it vertically - dividing the view into separate little sections. But a clear unobstructed view was a small price to pay for regaining my sanity.
Not that I'm insane - perhaps temporarily, but not really. I just use it as an excuse to stay here. I know it would be too dangerous if I lived outside. The bars help ease my peace of mind - making me feel as if I was trapped here inside this hospital, this room. But I knew deep down that it would never in a million years hold me back. It was just a symbol.
I thought back during that time when my own grandfather shot me and I first turned into this. I was so confused back then, so full of anger, so full of rage, so full pain - pain of having been betrayed by the only family I had left. It wasn't what you would call a possession; no, I wasn't possessed by the devil. The actions I took were by my own volition, not some supernatural force controlling me. Of course, I hadn't thought of this back then. I was too confused, too panic-stricken. When I arrived here, exhausted from experience of flight and all that had just happened, I couldn't think straight. It was too fantastical even for me. The cops found me and questioned me. I couldn't answer anything back then. I was too shocked to say anything except ramble on incoherently about what had happened to me. They thought I was crazy, of course, and placed me here.
That turned out to be an unexpected blessing. The time spent here gave me the chance to collect my thoughts and think over the past events.
After my mother died, I thought I had a grasp of what evil was. Toshin personified it for me. But I know now that it wasn't evil, just a force of nature. It was beyond moral standings of right and wrong. It just did what it was supposed to do. No, the realization of evil came to me through a bullet. Greed; that was what drove my grandfather - a lust for power. That was what drove my father too. And his pact with the devil personified that evil. It was not the Toshin, it was me.
I had power now - real power. I felt it within me, growing stronger each passing day. I knew that, if I wanted to, I could slaughter every living being here in this hospital - or simply just tear open the bars and escape. It was a power that tempted me everyday; I was a Mishima in blood, after all. I knew I had the same capacity for evil as my father and grandfather. I wanted that power, though I also knew I needed to supress it for the safety of those around me. But sometimes want is much more powerful than need.
I took one last glance at the drenched city below. Then closed my eyes and sat crossed-legged at the center of the bed. I had started practicing meditation since I arrived here, to control the urges. From outside the halls I could hear screams of anxiety and fear from the other patients. At first the constant screaming and their pleadings of innocence distracted me. But as time went on, I used this to strengthen my concentration and harden my resolve.