The room is noisy, from outside I can hear people leaving the pubs and bars, making their way home, I hear the clinking of glasses, a toast to the future, I hear the sound of laughter and the dull thudding beat of the friday night DJ coming from the cheap tatty bars and clubs that seem to spring up more and more round here lately.

I close the window. I cant bare the noise, its not helping me. I need to think clearly, I need to see clearly, I need to understand what Ive done.

The room looks just like it did before it happened, like its stuck in time, everything is the same. Two glasses sit on the coffee table, half empty, a bottle of wine, a lit cigarette still burning in the ashtray, like time could just re-start and everything could carry on like it was before. I laugh at how odd that is, so much has happened and yet so much remains exactly the same.

Why dont I feel anything, its like my brain has shut down the part that gives me what I need. I want to feel it, every last bit of it. I want to remember how it felt, how he tasted, how that rush came. But I cant. Why cant I. This was what I wanted, ive been waiting so long. Ive been wanting this for so long, I wanted relief, I wanted release and ive got nothing. Im angry. This is typical, everything goes wrong, I cant fulfill even my own need, Im usless. I have to see him. Thats it, I have to see him, I have to be reminded of what Ive done, I have to look at him, every part of him and remember, and feel and that will do it, that will help me.

Hes on the chair, sitting there, looking at me. I look at him, his eyes, dark, stare back at me, almost looking through me, I remember kissing those eyes, I felt nothing. My eyes trail to his kneck, I remember biting that kneck, feeling his body rise beneath mind as I did, he felt lust,  I felt nothing. Further my eyes trail, I search, I remember, I remember feeling nothing, nothing at all. I pushed it, I wanted to feel excited, turned on even but I couldnt. His hands, those hideous hands, searching my body, making my skin crawl but still I tried to get even the most remote sensation of enjoyment, but I couldnt. I feel my eyes welling up. I pity myself, my desparation to be fulfilled by the pleasures that everyday people enjoy but these things mean nothing to me.

Then I see it, glistening, beautiful in the light. Im drawn to it. Almost hypnotised by it and there it is, that feeling, release, almost joy, excitement, fulfillment, lust. I remember, those feelings, those wonderful glorious feelings rushing over me, cleansing me as I plunged my hand into him, that feeling of warmth, of satisfaction as I felt his life slip away with every thrust of that knife.

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