Anger courses through my veins, and I am ready to kill. I am ready to become a monster.

Would I die for her?


I would much rather kill her with my own hands; watch her die with my own eyes.

I wouldn’t feel remorse.

I wouldn’t feel human.

In that moment, I would be so happy. So very happy.

I would make her physically feel all the emotional shit she puts me through every time I hear her voice.

I would hurt her, and hurt her, and hurt her till she cried and asked me to stop.

But I wouldn’t.

I would crave her pain, and the more she called out the more elated I would feel.

I would be crazy and demented and everything I’m not right now.

And I wouldn’t even care.

I would be a monster.

And I would be free.

The End

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