In my head, I hear him scream as my boot comes down onto his kneecaps. I revel in the sound of the crushing of bone. I grin as I see pain contort his face.
In my head, I take the knife and scour lines along his flesh. Lines to match the scarring on Para’s back. Two for every mark. Three. The blood runs in rivulets, and I smile.
In my head, I use these lines as a guide, a blueprint for my machinations, and I peel back the flesh bit by bit, letting it litter the floor in a bloody array of confetti.
My heart wants these things. My brain tells me I cannot. So I don’t. I stop. And I give him a swift death, one swifter than he deserves.
This doesn’t matter, of course. The thoughts are still there when I close my eyes. I still see these things. He knows I see these things. And he does not speak to me at all.
He said he knew. Said it didn’t matter…apparently it does. All is for naught. My heart…
[the ink smears at the end, as if the hand holding the quill simply let it fall from their fingers]
In my head, I take the knife and scour lines along his flesh. Lines to match the scarring on Para’s back. Two for every mark. Three. The blood runs in rivulets, and I smile.
In my head, I use these lines as a guide, a blueprint for my machinations, and I peel back the flesh bit by bit, letting it litter the floor in a bloody array of confetti.
My heart wants these things. My brain tells me I cannot. So I don’t. I stop. And I give him a swift death, one swifter than he deserves.
This doesn’t matter, of course. The thoughts are still there when I close my eyes. I still see these things. He knows I see these things. And he does not speak to me at all.
He said he knew. Said it didn’t matter…apparently it does. All is for naught. My heart…
[the ink smears at the end, as if the hand holding the quill simply let it fall from their fingers]