The Mistaken Child

She kept screaming at me the whole time, I’m not blaming her because I was cutting her mouth open with her favorite kitchen knife, the one that she loved. It’s worse when it is your beloved who’s hurting you. Tears rolled down my cheek when I punctured her sweet little mouth and it was all strange for me as I was feeling it for the second time in my life. I started to sweat, my whole body was acting against me, it was like your best friend stabbing you in the back, which I would know nothing of. I didn’t want to kill her; she was my wife, the only thing that made me feel that I’m still a human, she cared for me, fed me, loved me but yet I did this to her. It was definitely a force in my head that drove me to make this kill which I’ve been holding off without my will. She unleashed the deadly dark dragon inside me.
I always have a thing for childish girls. Not that in any way you think of, yes I wanted to kill them. I heard God never makes a mistake but here I was, the mistaken child. Doctors say that what I feel is an effect of my frontal lobe damage but I say it’s an effect of what my dad did to me. When I reminisce about the past, I blame no one for the death of my wife but my dad; he made me what I am. Dad used to call me little Alan, the special child. He even bantered with his friends that I’m a childish brat with no fear of future that I always laugh and smile. I say, what’s wrong with that? But my Mother’s funeral when I was seven was the day that changed me, all the visitors, even my little Jacob who was a fluffy dog was grieving for my Mother’s death but me. I was there, beside her grave, laughing and calling her to come watch the football game with me. My father came up to me, pulled me out of there, yelled at me “You killed your mother for god’s sake, aren’t you sad even a bit, you are a retarded child of the devil, I knew it from the beginning.” It was the first time that I ever felt anything strange, it was anger, hunger, sorrow, and grievance. I just pushed my mother out of the way when we were playing hide and seek, little that I knew that I pushed her off the stairs and she was physically a weak person as I’ve seen. How can he blame me for that? Out of all the emotions that stirred me that day, what got stuck to me was the hunger. When I was 8, I killed my father when he called me a child of devil again, why did he need to use it again? I never liked it or liked him, I loved my mother more and I wanted her to be there with me more than anything. I ran away, far away from home.
As I grew, hunger was the one that took over me. Since then I’ve killed to live. I choose the girls who are childish but are aged because that’s who my dad used to refer me to. I loved to be childish but apparently people had problems with that. I killed every one of them I knew, or come to know of but then by pure serendipity I even managed to get a wife, a family far away. My Wife used to care for me and apparently I had to tell her what my life is and what are the things I do, I can’t keep a secret from her, people call me a serial killer but I was intelligent, I have never got caught, though I have been close. One person in the whole world to understand me was my wife, she taught me to suppress my desires, my hunger which made her the only magnet that held my life pieces together. I tried, at one point of time I couldn’t, I warned her but she never took no for an answer. What happens when I suppress my hunger more than I can take? Simple, it becomes a catastrophe. She got herself into quite a predicament tonight as I couldn’t take it anymore, my wife was in the kitchen, beside her was her favorite knife, the
deadly dragon took over me and its hunger was at its zenith as I took the knife and slashed her sweet little mouth with it. I felt remorse, at least that’s what people say it is. I couldn’t interpret what I was seeing, I watched her suffer, suffocate. I strangled her throat with my bare hands, usually I wouldn’t do that but I didn’t want her to suffer. That’s when I realized I can never stop; I can never put my dragon to sleep. After all we had two children, one was me, and the other one was her.