The old woman can't run no more... She had her legs ripped off.
I firstly felt ashamed, guilty, But before I could stop, think and make some sense, I was taken by those strange (but still familiar) feelings.
There was no mirror on the dark room, lightened only by two old chandeliers with small dancing-flamed candles, but I was sure my face had become reddish, I could feel the heat leaving it... My face was taken by that maniac expression and the laugh covered the painful screams coming from the poor, innocent victim. All my eyes could see was pain, as they were burnt by sweat and tears while the voice inside my head kept telling me to cut more and deeper...
The drums I could hear instead of heartbeats was telling me my heart was almost jumping out of my chest, the air inside my lungs was so humid and cold that I could barely breath it.
When I had finished my job I fled, my brain pressed by fear, terror of being discovered taking control of my actions and thoughts.
The fastest I ran, the less I could think... Then I gave a false step, my foot was broken now, same way my arm, as I fell over it... The cops came like a heavy hit on my head and all I can remember is to wake up on this cell, in which, I suppose, I will remain forever. The medicines I'm obligated to use taste like crap, but since I started having it I was no longer overtaken by that other self, the same one who torn apart grandma's legs.
I firstly felt ashamed, guilty, But before I could stop, think and make some sense, I was taken by those strange (but still familiar) feelings.
There was no mirror on the dark room, lightened only by two old chandeliers with small dancing-flamed candles, but I was sure my face had become reddish, I could feel the heat leaving it... My face was taken by that maniac expression and the laugh covered the painful screams coming from the poor, innocent victim. All my eyes could see was pain, as they were burnt by sweat and tears while the voice inside my head kept telling me to cut more and deeper...
The drums I could hear instead of heartbeats was telling me my heart was almost jumping out of my chest, the air inside my lungs was so humid and cold that I could barely breath it.
When I had finished my job I fled, my brain pressed by fear, terror of being discovered taking control of my actions and thoughts.
The fastest I ran, the less I could think... Then I gave a false step, my foot was broken now, same way my arm, as I fell over it... The cops came like a heavy hit on my head and all I can remember is to wake up on this cell, in which, I suppose, I will remain forever. The medicines I'm obligated to use taste like crap, but since I started having it I was no longer overtaken by that other self, the same one who torn apart grandma's legs.
