Well fuck. It was going to be impossible to get the blood stains out of a white carpet.
Oh. I probably sound like a murderer. Well, let me tell you something. I am.
You're probably freaking out now. Any normal person would be. But, you see, I'm not a normal person. I don't feel. I guess I would be considered a psychopath, someone who should be locked up, someone who is disabled. But, I don't see this as a disability. I see it as an advantage.
What I mean is, I have no conscious. It doesn't matter to me who lives or who dies, and I have no problem using that in my favor.
When the girl I just killed screamed for help, oh no, I didn't have a single thought of the ethics of the situation. Any other person would have questioned their sanity, but me? I felt even more sane.
When the life left her eyes, I was in control. Not her. Me. You know what my only regret is?
I didn't know her name.
YOU ARE READING
Rain
Short Storyrain (noun) /rān/ Moisture condensed from the atmosphere that falls visibly in separate drops. It seems to rain all the time in their world. The anorexic, the killer, and the suicidal. Their world is surrounded in rain. But her's isn't. No, her...
