We all know this feeling... It simply comes over you. Slowly... just to slit your wrist, to get into your veins and to follow them to your heart. This strange feeling... the need to kill.

It doesn't happen with he first person you see on a monday morning... It can't be anyone. (if you stop caring about who you want to kill, you could be considered dangerous and should call the ambulance immediately. The nice people are going to help you and soon the friendly men in white will appear. So, don't worry. Leave it to them.)

Usually, when we unconditionally want to see blood, this might happen with someone we really hate. When we start to analyse the differences between social groups and ages, we'll see that the objective of our hate and anger can vary. For a fourty year old man from a higher class, it could be the boss, his wife or his ex-wife. For a thirty year old woman, it's her husband and her mother-in-law. University students between 17 and 25, usually hate their parents... or their teachers.

And so, I saw him sitting on that table, just like I always do it (Chairs are often too low for me). In that moment I thought he could be something like a human. Of course, it was only a stupid idea; THAT couldn't really be a human being. I tried one more time to listen to his words, but with every past second it became more difficult. Would I be able to survive? When I already could hear the sweet sound of the bells of death, my mind floated away and saved my poor soul. I closed my eyes...


When I opened them, I only saw total emptiness. There was no light fountain in that place, but I could see everything, even though the not existing walls were black...
I started to run, but it felt like I couldn't move. I began to panic and tried to stretch my arms and legs to reach anything - but it was useless. Then... he appeared.

He was wearing the same clothing as a few minutes before in the classroom. Without thinking about it, I got closer. I didn't even notice that I was able to move again. He didn't seem to see me. I called his name, but he didn't react. Then I saw the big table behind me. On it, I found lots of weapons like guns, knifes and other blades, and different types of poison. I took a knife and imagined how it could feel to slit his throat. But I forgot that soon. It would be too fast and it wouldn't hurt him enough. So I took a bigger knife and started to cut his toes... one by one.
But his only reaction was that awful, ugly smile on his face.

I was torturing him and he was still smiling? After seeing that, I hated him even more. I took the knife and cut a clear line from his mouth down to his chin, on the right side of his face. Then, I did the same thing on the other side. Great! Now, he wasn't smiling anymore. But I wanted to see tears. I pushed the knife through his skin right under the eye. Immediately, red tears started to run down his cheeks. I was happy... I had created ART.