3The blood on my hands... it won't go away. No matter how much I wash them, I can still see the remains of what I did in the past. I can still see the remains of the normal life I used to lead haunting me, tormenting my every thought. You think I can't hear the whispers, don't you? The comments behind my back about me and what I've done... the accusations from people who think they're better then me.
You piece of shit, I can hear the things you say when you think I'm not around. I can FEEL the hatred in your eyes when you look at me when we cross paths. So much better then me, aren't you? You would NEVER do something like what I did, right? For once, put yourself in my shoes... smell what I smelled... taste the blood that was on my tongue... feel your fucking lungs caving in from crying so hard.
Scared?
The hot flesh of someone who is a stranger to you... do you feel it? Feel the pain that I felt at that moment, my desperation to live. But you must think someone who is in their right mind could just stop there, right? Surely that would not be an option for someone as SANE as you, am I right?
Do you feel hopeless? For one moment, just a moment... you snap and realize you'll do anything to see your family again. This monster hurting you is DIRT on the fucking ground, and you just want to make him suffer for trying to take the precious moments away from you. You just want to bash his fucking face in until he stops moving like he tried to do to you. Kill him. KILL him. Take your life back into your own hands, and stop him before he ruins you anymore.
So look at me one more fucking time, you bastard. Hate me for all I care... call me a murderer.
But what have I done that you wouldn't have?