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In a Day I Like To Remember
In a day I like to remember, was a day of which my life began and ended. It was a dark, misty, grim setting day. For I could only wish for that.
So my day began as a regular person, but not. I loved things that squirm and move about in pain, the sounds were like pleasure for me. Twisting, grinding, and the cutting sounds were all I need. The red rain, of which I stood under, was like a drop of paint in water, once it spreads you can’t get it out. To put on an act for my friends was easy, using the right phases and conversations. To trick them of whom I really was.
I live alone, in a dark and twisted room. My bed lay beside a window, my closet right on side of my door and my art all over the place. My room was a studio of some sorts. Books every where, on my bed, closet and couch.
I always go outside to my job or to look at other people. When I do, when I look at people, I feel like another part of me wishes to open them up and look at them. Even if they were babies, children, teens or adults. When I reach my job, I notice that I’m at home.
My job is perfect, I work at a morgue, I dissect humans and I secretly steal their parts. I love the feel of the cold dead flesh, but I prefer warm though. It feels smooth, watery, and slimy. It feel like my life has begun again but it already ended when I feel the warm dead flesh. The first time I felt warm flesh was no more than a decade ago. It was beginning and the end of my life.
It was beginning of fall, when I was only 20 yrs of age it was like the regular day of a 20 year old. But I wished for something more interesting, I do not know what I wanted but I did know that I wanted something. For me that would be interesting but I if something happened to me or someone else.
That morning when I woke up, the walls seemed fuzzy like usual, not that I care or not, I’m just getting up. I put on my work clothes and made breakfast for myself. When I am done with my meal, which was good, which was made up of hot rice and raw egg poured over the top, I put it in the sink and rinse it off. I put on my coat, hat and my shoes and I walk out of the door to get to my work. I take my car, a nice one, I got to admit.
So where I work is at a mini mart and of course we sell the oddest of things. When I got to work I found the dead bodies of my co-workers on the floor. I saw a man in white covered with blood of my co-workers on him. He stared at me, he had a knife in his right hand; blood dripping from it. I was scared, not only because I thought he was going to kill me. To my surprise he left and dropped his knife, he left me with the dead bodies of my co-workers. Blood was everywhere, I looked at them. A strange thought went through my head “I want to feel their insides”. Even though I knew it was wrong to think that, I could help it. It made me feel at ease.
I took the knife and cut off the clothing off of all of them. The noxious fumes from the bodies did not bother me. Even though most people would have been bothered by this smell, I found it appealing that the smell was like this. I found it so pleasurable, that I was able to do such a thing. I started to open the stomach of a young woman, cutting so delicately her smooth skin, so it was easy to cut into it. The knife was gliding across her skin. I made a cross when I cut her open, it was not a form a god I was trying to make, it was only for my purpose to open her more easily.
When I pulled back her flesh I saw many things. It made me feel so good. The feel of the flesh, was like watery down feeling of those slimy toys you get when you’re younger. I feel so alive. I took out the insides and rubbed them all over my face, until my face was cover with blood and dripping all over me. It felt like I had a new life ahead of me. The blood so smelled so fine and I tasted the blood. It was sweet not salty, it is said if you like something so much it will taste different than something you don’t like. Try it I would suggest, it tastes like heaven.
The blood was flowing down my chest like a river, it was so beautiful. But it was short lasted, the blood dried up like the desert plain. So my first instinct was to open the next body. But I waited for a while so I could reassure my self that I was doing nothing wrong, I was doing this to please myself. I went over to the next body it was a young boy, most likely younger than me did not know though. I didn’t care if he was or not, I only cared about what was inside him. So I took the knife and sliced his neck blood flowed out. The smell, the sight, the feeling and taste was so divine. Then I sliced down his chest to open him up. I peeled back his skin and laid on top of him. I took his skin and pulled it back on me while I was laying on him. The warm feeling of his body was so pleasurable. I fell asleep on his body.
That’s about as far as I remembered, those were the good days. When I left work I left with a thought in my head “what should I do now?” for the first time I felt remorse of what has happened all those years ago. I felt like I should have not done that, but when an urge to do something is right in front of you, you would just do it. No matter the cost, you would just do it.
When I got home I took off my work clothing, sat on the couch. Then I got up again and went to the fridge. I took out a raw egg, broke it open and swallowed it raw. You know the healthy way to do something. After I ate the raw egg, I sat back down on the couch. I pick up a book just a random one; the title of the book was “The Different Methods of Torture”. When I started to read this book it made me feel at ease, it was like my world came together, like nothing would stop this fantasy from ending.
The evening was coming close; I was near to coming to a stop this day. When it reaches the time I usually go to bed, I sit on my bed and wait for the call, even though there will be no call. When I’m too tired to continue I go to sleep. But tonight something different happened; someone called the house and told me to look outside. It was a man in white with a knife in his right hand, then I cowered in fear that he would come after me.
To Be Continued