I see myself in this familiar house. This is where it all happened.
I remember standing in the middle of the room heard him screaming, begging for help. “NO! NO! Please, don’t do this! Let me go!”
I just don’t listen to him, in my hand was a big steak knife. This is not good. “No one to help you here. Nobody will hear you! So stop with all the screaming! YOU deserve this!!”
My heart was telling me No, don’t do this. This is not the way. But my brain and my body just didn’t listen. I got to do it, he must suffer! He must feel what I feel before!
And it all happened, flashed back right before my eyes the scene of me start stabbing the knife 27 times right into his chest. Puddle of blood started to accumulate the floor, all red. The it all stopped, silence. No sound but the sound of blood drops dripping down the knife. I must regret this, it’s terrible, I must feel really bad!
No, wait. All those feelings rushing back to me. It’s not regret, no remorse. Instead, I feel a rush of …victory. Nothing feels like it before. Then, I see myself grinning, smiling with satisfaction.