I’m thankful that one day you are going to die. That one day your blood will be split and it shall be washed away like water flowing into a drain. I am thankful that one day, someone’s going to snap, grab a meat cleaver and tear your face apart. Rip your ears off. Your eyes. Your nose. Your lips. I am thankful that one day, I can smile as I stand above your grave and slam a knife deep into the toxic soil. And I will whisper softly, “this is why I’m thankful” as you burn below in hell’s infinite fires.
People like you are a virus. A disease. Something that needs a cure. Something that needs to be eradicated. Tortured. And left for dead. You see, what you are, is an infection in my system. A glitch in my subconscious. You’re the epitome of everything I hate, and everything I want to destroy. You resemble icons of the past: liars, manipulators, sinners, murderers, rapists — the list goes on and on and on. And it doesn’t end. Why should it? How can it when you continue to breathe the same air I do as if it’s your God-given right? How can you walk the same roads I walk, see the same things I see, and hear the same things I hear? You’re not me. Quite the opposite. The exact opposite.
If I had my way, I’d make sure your death came slow. I’d torment you. I’d make you experience everything I experienced, and all the pain you caused others. I’d break into your mind, and like you love to do, I’d contort it. I’d break you. I’d drive you to the brink of insanity, and then push you over the limit. This Rubicon shall be breached. And I’d watch you scream. I’d laugh as the tears flood your eyes and you beg me to stop. But it won’t stop there. It won’t stop until I make it stop.
Next I’d cut off your balls, and your penis will soon follow. I’d rip it apart and make you bleed profusely. I’d stick knives in your flesh and tear your skin off inch by inch. I want to expose the real you. The monster that lives beyond flesh and bone. The creature who gazes at angels through a mask of sanity. I want to show the world the truth. And I want the world to stand in awe — and witness the harsh reality of who you are. What you are. What it is that needs to happen. I’ll rip off your face, exposing Satan’s bliss. Your dark, cancerous thoughts. Your artificial, darkened heart. And who you really, really are. I’d take you. And I’d end your life.
Your hands. Your legs. Your arms. Every inch. It’ll all be cut off. Thrown into the trash like all the other diseases. Like all the other people who had outstayed their welcome. All the other people who couldn’t feel. Couldn’t cry. Couldn’t love. Couldn’t understand. But lied. And spread demonic lies with a self-made wit and a well-crafted charm. You see, I know who you really are. I always knew what lied behind the shadows and the mundane grin. Like a spider, you spun a web of lies and like a cult leader, you converted my friends. My hopes. My dreams. My future. Which is why I’m thankful you will die. Which is why you will die. Which is why you deserve to die.
And not a thing you do can stop this now. Not a prayer you say can save you now. Nothing you may hope for will occur. Because I can’t stop now. And it’s over now. And there’s not a thing I can do to change the past. Not a hope or a dream that could be answered where you’d die before this came to pass. Before you spread like a cancer on a weak body. It’s like if I put a gun to your head and pulled the triggerâ€¦ you’d be gone. Finished. And the end result would be a happy ending. Not a guilty conscience — not an overdose of regret, topped off by fear of the unknown. I’d watch you die. I’d save myself. And it would be alright. Everything would be alright.
Too many lives on display. Too many tombstones with names I read clearly even in darkness. Even with the fog’s abyss stretching over my graveyard of lost emotions and empty half-lives. Broken souls wander the empty corridors of this special place I hold dear. It’s where I pay my last respects for everyone you took. Everything you destroyed. Like a venom that courses through my veins, suffocating me from within. And so I drown. But I’d take you down with me. Making sure my last breaths come after yours. If only to see the world without you for a few moments — even a few seconds. To see God’s green earth with its beauty intact and your head decapitated from your shoulders. Then it’d all be worth it. Then my prayers would be answered.
This is the world. This is reality. Your falsehood and charades bring a swift death upon the weak-minded. But not for me. Not for the one you tried so hard to kill. You see, this is my quest. And right now, I’m gazing down at you with your eyes torn and your body leaking a surreal gore. The moment of truth. What I’m thankful for. And so with victory in my sights, it’s time to seize the day. Carpe Diem. This is how you die. Your head rolls to the floor. Your life over, gone, and enriched by an ending that ruptured your core. Your life on display on a table filled with blood. And in the shadows, I wander, sending you to hell.
I left you with nothing. As I take back everything. And so much more. It’s easy to see now, isn’t it? Like an epiphany realized in the finest hour. When the hourglass runs empty, and the world takes notice. Everyone. Everywhere. Standing in awe. And the earth’s thunder is like my grand applause. My finale. My encore.
What I’m thankful forâ€¦