that saying “April showers, bring May flowers.”
My life is under control once again. I’m happy. This brand new baby boy is the light of my life. He’s my first, and I wish it could have only happened sooner. His smile allows me to forget past troubles. His face portends a brighter future. His eyes shine from unrestrained optimism.
The way he giggles fills my soul with hope. My existence has changed. I have purpose. He is purpose. In times of dread I absorb his innocence for courage. He’s what drives me. He’s why I am.
Can anyone admit their fear of death? Is it because of religion that they don’t? Because it terrifies the hell out of me. It terrifies me that it could happen at anytime. It terrifies me that science has no explanation for what may happen to who we are after death. It terrifies me that I will only know once I die. It terrifies me that there could be nothingness…
I have come to the realization that I will never be complete. If I have become complete the world is in peace, there is no longer any knowledge to be learned ever again, and I am a God among mortals.
I have sat here for hours just with my thoughts to keep me company. Still I’m lonely. I put on a face of happiness, but I loathe each and every one of them. I don’t believe in the concept of a peaceful world. It is not in human nature to be peaceful. Let alone, there is not peace in nature itself. For our world to be infallible and at peace, human beings must be infallible. This will never be the case. No man is perfect. Even the perception of perfection differs from person to person.
We are all stalkers of some form. Those of us who read gossip magazines, watch porn, follow sports stations. The line between voyeur and stalking is now very blurry thanks to the technological age. Only 2% of stalking cases ever end up in violence. Most do not.
Is it good that people are trying to cure all diseases and disabilities? Wouldn’t that create an uncontrollable over-population crisis? Nobody gets sick, and people keep breeding. If all diseases are cured, there must be a limit or restriction when it comes to allowing people to reproduce. No one should ever be content. Those who claim to be, go through life with blinders on.
As I breathe, I hear voices. I hear them walking down the street. I hear them while I work. I hear them as I eat. I hear them as I dream. They will not leave me alone, and must be cleansed away. These voices from my past.
I crave the blood of these voices, before all can be content. I have the taste of blood in my mouth. It tastes as I’d expect life to taste. Bland, sour, and a bit metallic. A purge must begin. Too long have we sat back and watched our society degenerate. I’m sitting watching all of the morning shows wanting to kill them all.
One of the voices is gone. I put an end to it. Flashes in my head of the body lying on the ground. In a puddle of blood. Pale, cold, lifeless…God! Voices still remain. They will not let me be. I’ll dispense of them.
Two more are now gone. I have silenced them. In the middle of the night I traversed the alleys. The darkness soothes my nerves. The quiet calms my head. The unknown peaks my interest.
Thanksgiving is coming and I’m thankful there’s blood everywhere. Blood all over my hands, blood on the walls. How’d this happen? God, I’m dizzy. I was driving. Nowhere in particular. Just far away. If I went home it was over. Of course, I’m kidding myself. It didn’t matter if I went home or not. Everything is already over. I suppose that’s why I was driving. Why I keep driving. I don’t see anything, just blood. My arm is numb. So are my lips. There’s blood all over me, and body’s full of valium. I’ve got to get this cleaned up. I’ve got to clean myself. I’ve got to get clean. Dear God, I’ve got to get clean…
The purge must begin. Too long have we sat back and watched our society degenerate. Now that the power is ours, we must take advantage of it.
There are new voices that have entered my head. Many more than before. People pounding. Trying to get into my head. I don’t want them to come in, but they keep pounding and pounding. The brightness is blinding. Light is everywhere. They must not see the blood. I need help. Please help me…
“You (the victim) exist only to satisfy my whim; I am superior; you are inferior; nobody will try to protect you; you have no rights; there is no God to whom you can turn for protection; there are no rules or reasons you can invoke and no decency in me that will finally spare you.”
-Marquis de Sade
About the Author
Sean Sundquist is a writer from Perris, CA which is an hour east of Los Angeles. He has written quite a few short stories and is currently working on a novel. A historical western which takes place prior to the Mexican-American war.