I don't know how I could do what I did, but it really happened. There was no reason! I hadn't suffered any abuses from my parents that could have led me to become violent or irritable. I hadn't taken any drugs that could have disturbed my mental health. I hadn't had any bad relations that could have influenced me to become a dement criminal. There's no other explanation but madness.
That morning I suddenly woke up from a nightmare with cold sweat covering my face and my heart beating rapidly. I stood up, went through the darkness to the bathroom to take a shower. I closed my eyes while the water flew over my skin attempting to find a reason for the strange feeling that invaded my whole body. But there was none. I felt empty, without any subjection, as if my body was about to fall apart and brake in one thousand pieces. I stopped the shower. My hand wiped the steamy mirror and an unknown, ancient face appeared on it. I didn't recognize it at first, but then, scared of the colourless head with bags under the eyes, I noticed it was me.
The void surrounded my while my body ate breakfast but my mind was somewhere else, as if I was disconnected. I saw myself sitting at the table as if my soul had escaped from the flesh of my body. Suddenly the whispering began. It was a silent, horrible wine that penetrated my ears and shoke my brain. Like the terrible moan of death. I reentered my chilly body and my eyes looked around searching the origin of that anguished murmur. But then it stopped. I thought it would have been my imagination.
My body walked to school and I tried to remember something about the exam. Nothing came. The bell rung, and the pupils entered the classroom. When the teacher gave me the sheet I noticed that strange feeling again. And there was that whispering again. I heard it somewhere behind my head, but when I turned back there was nobody. I thought I must be stressed and tried to calm down. I still tried to concentrate on my work. As the noise became louder and louder I began to sweat and tremble. I tried to believe that the voice was a joke of my mind, but suddenly the whispering ordered "Kill them all!". I was terrified, looking around to find a convincing explanation for that phantasmal voice which the others didn't seem to hear. I began to think that this moan couldn't only be produced by my imagination. My hand moved quickly over the sheet of paper attempting to write the exam and forget about the whispering. Now the sweat was flowing all over my face, my eyes looking at nowhere when the whispering shouted again "You have to kill them!". "Who's there?" I asked loudly, but nobody answered, the class just looked at me as if I were mad. I looked down at the table and my swollen eyeballs opened widely when I noticed that over the sheet my hand had written with capital letters "THEY HAVE TO DIE!".
I was so shocked that I couldn't stop the trembling and my heart beat fast when suddenly my hand grabbed the pencil and held it threatening over my head. Surprised by the rebellion of my body, I attempted to gain control over my extremity. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" I shouted, but it sticked the pencil into the neck of the girl in front of me. Unable to cry, the girl just took out her tongue, coughed blood and tried to remove the pencil with her hands. A moment later her head fell backwars and her hands hung from her shoulders. The others looked up and, frightened of the dead girl with a gurgeling wound on her neck, shouted and cried and ran to the door to escape.
Terrified I noticed that I was no longer the controller of my body as my hand took the pencil out of the girl's neck. My legs stood up and persecuted the other pupils while my hand moved the pencil up and down. They yelled hysterically and cried out when the pencil penetrated their skin and splatted their vanes. Blood sprang out of their wounds and stained the class red. "This is not happening, it's just a dream" I said to myself looking at the pale face of the pupil my body was about to kill and my eyes closed and I hoped to be mad. But when my eyes opened again the reality appeared: my body had killed the whole class. And there was I, in the middle of the floor full of the dead corpses that once had been my friends. I fell down on my knees and cried.
"Why?" I asked and the whispering answered "Because you wanted it!".
Then I discovered that the whispering was the voice of darkness and destruction that lives in the interior of all souls. We try to hide it behind our sense of rationality because we can't imagine that there are no rules to predict and control. But somewhere and in some way the whispering comes out to show how disordered, how confused we are. Then we can see that we are only tiny puppets guided by the only universal truth, chaos.
But don't believe me, I'm mad. Keep on thinking you're the owner of your body.

by farlopindo

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