Welcome to Gaia! ::

There’s a name for this feeling, I’m sure, but for the life of me I can’t recall it. All I can focus on is the pounding of my heart, like a mallet against my ribcage; my breathing, sharp, quick, erratic; my body trembling all over.

And this feeling is born from what I see in his eyes: hatred, mockery, detestation. It’s deplorable to look at him and feel that I am the one in the wrong, that I am the evil one.

I bite my lip. Hard, but I don’t care. I need to feel the pain to remind myself that I’m human and that he is the one at fault here. He did this, not me.

The fluorescent light reflects off the knife, nearly blinding me. I can feel my body shaking -- there’s a name for this feeling -- and the fear is thick in the air, almost as if I could reach out and touch it, caress it. The blade bites into flesh. It’s a shallow cut, barely more than a scratch, but it still elicits a scream, though I believe that is more due to the fear than the pain.

I look into his eyes -- those dark, angry depths -- and I wonder what he thinks of me. When he sees my hand shaking so terribly, what does he feel? As the knife glides over unmarked skin, what runs through his mind? He must hate me, despise me with every fiber of his being.

There’s a name for this feeling.

I smile and plunge the knife into his heart.

Ecstasy.