"Your a fucking phycotic Bitch you know that?!" This dumb ass yelled at me as I had him pinned up against a wall, with a gun pressed up to his head. He was about my age, 19.
"It's what I live for," I smirked at him, pressing the gun harder into his head.
"Is this just what you do? Find a random target and just eliminate them for fun? Cause if you do, that's fucking pathetic!" He yelled at me.
"I call it, living for the adrenaline." I whispered in his ear while biting onto his ear lobe, before shooting him in the head. I let him drop to the floor. I have no idea who he was, this was just my life, I have a crazed obsession you could call it. After my mom and dad died from a shooting, I guess you could say I went mad, well actually I did go mad. I have had extreme anxiety, and anger issue problems ever since they died, I blame everything on everyone on this planet. The only time my head is clear and I feel like I'm in control of myself is when I look someone right in the eye and shoot them, watching their eyes roll back into their head, face pale, head snapping back, and the life just being sucked out of them. I feel in control, I feel powerful. The only reason I do what I do, is because I want as many people as possible to feel what I feel. To know some maniac shot someone you loved. I am now that maniac, and I don't give a shit. I want them to feel the pain, and anxiety that I feel, but most importantly I want to feel that there is people other than myself out there that feel like fucking shit, and so fucking angered that they could kill someone for the complete overload they feel. I want to know there I someone besides me on who is like this. I must seem crazy probably because I am, I've tried to talk to a therapist before, they do shit! The things they say to me just anger me more. I had to just walk out of the room before I had the chance to kill anyone. That's where my issue is. I get mad I kill, simple/non simple as that. I've Gotten a bit better at containing my anger at times like, when people talk about my parents to me, I just mute them out. I don't speak, I can't or else I'll say something pathetic, or something that will blow my cover of being a slaughterer. That's what I do, I slaughter people. Sometimes I wish I could slaughter myself, but then I think, it will get better. Right now it seems pretty shitty, but I just have to wait for something, someone to help me, to contentment me, and to me release this feeling of condolence, and commiseration pulling me down from my shoulders. And when that person decides to come find me, I'll be waiting.