The light of the moon shined around me; my emerald eyes stared at my hands stained with fresh, crimson blood. The cold, night wind caressed my cheeks as if it was trying to comfort my heart for the emptiness it was suffering from.
Shifting my gaze to the tied, frail woman in her thirties laying on top of the grass, I picked myself up and made my way towards her.
“So?” I asked her, cocking my head to the side and raising my eyebrow as my blond hair danced along with the wind. My eyes looked at her, then to the mutilated corpse of a young female child no older than the age of 7 who was the spitting image of her mother. The young girl’s body was laying on top of a pool of her own blood and her face twisted in an agonizing expression. Moving closer to her, I waved the dirtied knife in front of her face. “Do you hate me now?”
“I-I…” Her small eyes widened in fear while following the movement of the object being swayed in front of her as her mind took in that the liquid sliding down it was the drop of life of her daughter; her very own flesh and blood.
Biting my lips as I felt impatience surged within me, I grabbed a handful of her dark brown hair and lifted her face to look at mine. “I am the man who killed your dear little angel. Surely, you hate me now, right? I made her suffer and let her experience hell on earth. She didn’t deserve it… I am a bad person.”
“N-no!” She trembled, “You are just a lonely man who needs to take out your anger. Your actions are j-justified.”
“Ah, I think I’m going crazy. All of you people say the exact same thing every single fucking time. Why can’t you hate me for killing those dear to you?”
It was the same cycle all over again. I killed the person in front of them in the most painful way they could ever imagine and yet, they could never bring to hate me. This rotten world–its rules–have poisoned the minds of its habitats that even a simple emotion like hate was taken from them.
Why couldn’t I get something as petty as hate? Why couldn’t I feel alive? Why did this world take such a genuine feeling away?
Breathing heavily due to the anger piling within me, I pressed the knife on the woman’s pale neck making her freeze in fear.
“I’m about to kill you. All I want is a simple thing: hate me. Be angry at me for ridding your innocent angel the future she deserve. Curse me for ruining your once peaceful life!”
“I-I w-will never do that…” She gulped and closed her eyes, “You need care and understanding. I will never take that away from you even if it costs me my life. Go on. If this will make you feel better or happy, slit my throat.”
Narrowing my eyes and not being able to control my anger and frustration, I slit her throat using the same knife that had tortured her child. Then, my hands were dirtied again by a new set of crimson blood that came from another invidual that could never fight the system of this unfair world. I fell on my knees and stared at my palms.
Yet again, I failed.
This was the thirtieth time I killed somebody in hopes of having someone hate me. I knew that doing things such as stealing, adultery and even spewing words of insult would never make someone hate me. Never in this hellish place.
With disappointment looming over me, I stood up and made my way towards the pond several steps from the place where the two souls had departed. Sitting down to wash the dirt and sins away and with the help of the moon as a source of light, I saw my reflection in the water.
I saw a monster.
Gone was the humanity in my eyes as it stared at me; allowing me to see the abyss of darkness swirling within my soul. My face had splashes of blood that didn’t look out of place and seemed as if there they truly belonged. The lips I thought which were pressed together in a thin line were smiling at me with a grin of a demon. That moment, I realized.
I came to hate myself.