• I’ve got a knife, it’s nice and sharp and it shines whenever I let it turn and twist with my hand...

    I’ve got intentions...Intentions to do something very bad...Something naughty...

    I’ve got a victim...My victim sits quietly on the park bench, unknowing of what’s going on...

    I’ve got cold hands...Freezing in fact; it’s hard for people to get close when I’m this cold...

    I’ve got a bad side; I may seem so normal, so average, as if I’m another person...But...

    I’ve got the darkest urges to kill someone tonight. It’s for real. I can’t control it any longer...

    I’ve got a good feeling, my only feeling. I will have the thrill of it soon...

    I’ve got a heart. Surprisingly, I do...But it doesn’t beat the same way as everyone else’s...


    My victim sits there. I see her, looking towards the floor, the tears running down her face...

    My hand strokes the knife, I feel the thrill, I know it’s time, and my victim is defenceless...

    My arm slips across her neck, her body shakes and moves in shock...

    My body doesn’t move, hers does...Mine doesn’t. Instead I feel my arm tighten...She’ll be dead soon...

    My heart is beating slowly, I’m used to this, her heart it pounding, very fast.

    My knife slides into her back...I feel the crack the of her spine as I push through the bones...

    And again, another day...I feel that difference to humans...

    I feel her heart slow...And I begin to feel the same.
    I begin to feel as if I’m not the only one...
    My face touches hers, our cold cheeks rub together as I hold her lifeless body in my arms.
    It’s beautiful. I feel right at home.
    The snow kisses her tender face as it pierces my rough skin, I feel the same...Yet I know I am different.
    I drop her body into the soft, white ground, as I stare up at the dark, blinding sky.
    I walk away.

    The snow turns scarlet as her blood spreads.

    I feel just at home here...My cold, blood-covered home, surrounded by darkness and swarmed by vultures.

    I arrive at the house, open the door, and step inside the warm, bright cosy home.

    I stand in the hallway.
    The lights blind me.

    I walk up the stairs, I pass by my mother...She says “Hi”...I don’t notice...

    I’m in the bathroom, looking into the mirror in front of me. It shows me so much, yet so little.

    I’ve got a knife. It’s horrible, blunt, covered in blood and dirt.

    But I don’t care...

    I’ll just get a new one.