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 ^{(it's beta!)}

You came just like every day. In your usual clothes. Black, that is the color that I know you like to wear. I asked myself once. You said it was sexy. You were right. But today was different. Today the black was tainted. You didn't wear sexy black clothes any more, because you had red on black. Liquid red blood is running down your clothes... This was what you had been saving up for. All the rage built up inside of you. Now it was exploding out. But you didn't want to die. You will run. You will live to kill anyone who tries to prevent you from living.

Now, in the wake of all the dead bodies; the live bodies, you walk with fury. Anyone that is a threat is eliminated. You kill the kid that tries to jump you. You kill the kid that tries to kill you. You lived and let live, but not anymore. Your next target is that boy that was always harassing you. You shoot him in the head. His brain promptly loses vital connections and dies - ceasing to command the utmost important function of the heart. He won't live from that. You move on, ignoring those in fear of you, heedless to the selectiveness of your slaughter. Those stupid ones - you will not kill them, they aren't worth it - they don't know what's going on.

As you exit... your trenchcoat is whipping chaotically in the wind of your haste, flicking specks of red around you. Amidst the blood a trail is left in your boot prints. You pick up the backpack, put the boots and coat into the car, and get in the drivers seat; putting the backpack in the passenger's seat. You close the door. The window comes down revealing your contorted and blood stained face, which emits a terrible tortured scream:

"FUCK YOU!"

You start the ignition, release the parking break and quickly drive away. The window goes up.

Driving away I composed myself, internalizing the anger sweeping through my brain, a fire consuming. I did know I had to act fast, because I was running out of time and energy. I was at an intersection, not waiting for the light to change, I continued through; carefully, calculatedly, obviously. It didn't matter anyway, there weren't enough cars that wanted to cross my path for it to. I drove to my mother's work.

That bitch never listened to a word I said. She continually spewed her propaganda she believed so passionately. To her, she was speaking the truth to me, a monotonously energetic drone was deposited out of her mouth. It was only now in the heat of the moment, after all this time, that I could finally get back. I was going to kill her for a personal reason. Unleashing my anger as the final word, a testament to my superiority. I stepped out of the car, my thoughts were put on the back burner as I tried to stroll as casually as I could toward my mom's workplace. There was no metal detector in this suburban town technology firm. I walked up to the secretary, disguising my disgust with a look of frustration. I told her I needed to see my mom. She called up as I quickly ran up the stairs, no doubt if my mother hadn't already heard about my previous killings, she would soon. I paused shortly to catch my breath where I could see the top and side of my mom's cubicle. I slowly began to walk towards her, taking care to be silent in my approach.

It was short. Apparently she had just finished recieving the message from the secretary and was very distraught. She turned and I took out my handgun, cocked it, and shot her once in the eye. A half formed scream escaped her as she began to die. She probably hadn't known I was going to kill her. I ran back downstairs, two floors. People seemed to hesitantly stay out of my way, although I could sense that their fear would become a mix of sadness and anger. As I ran through the lobby the secrataries eyes met mine. They were large - scared and round, with dilated pupils. Then she realized what had happened as I straight armed the door. I immediatly jumped into my car which I had illegally parked in the interest of speed, and accelerated illegally as well. I was going to leave now.

She drove for miles and miles, past state borders and police. But she didn't drive directly past them, she drove across fields and on side roads. How lucky she was to bypass them with such ease, escaping the paranoid frenzy created by punishment she wrought. Traversing Amerikan countryside with such ease, averting countrymen and riding a wave of rage that could carry her with it's momentum. Her world was aerial green, rapidly considering angles. She fingers the button.

You came and you did your wrath unto those select few. They only died.

I am tired. I need to sleep now. I pull over. Everything goes black in explosive trees.

The death of one is a tragedy.

Pain

I look around. I can see trees everywhere, I must be in a forest. In a car. Immediately, in reflex, I start rolling and turn the radio on. Moving through the trees and speedily making my way to geographically descend along the coast.

"-from India today, an extreme heat wave is continuing to kill-"

I shut it off. I don't want to hear about more dead people. Apparantly I am too far removed from the crime to be of importance to national radio. I've had enough of this stupid town, this stupid country, this stupid government controlling me. I am in control of my life and I am going to set an image of one who won't slide with the shit they feed me. I'll kill them! I drive faster.

At last I reach my destination. A small shack set up in advance with a stocked boat illegally set for sail. I park the car half a mile away and then walk to the boat. I prepare for launch and cut loose. As I sail away I finger the button one last time. I press it and the car is blown into oblivion. Hopefully no one was driving by that shoulder, or underneath in the cold dark waters below. I dispose of the detonator and it disappears.