I was like a robot, a mad man robot, a mad man killer robot. If someone looked me in the eyes they would surely die sooner or later. Only one person has looked me in the eyes, my wife. I killed her, that lecherous tramp. She fooled around with almost everyone that I knew. Whether to torture me or just for the hell of it, I’ll never know. That was when she injured my eyes with the broken mirror. Now that my eyes look glassy-like, their sight was not demolished, it was better.
I walk down the streets with sun glasses on - sun or not. I walk down the streets in black - cold or not. I walk down the streets in gloves - chilly or not. I walk down the streets with a full bag - no matter what. In the bag - always - a weapon.
I, today decided to go to the park where the colors were pretty. Red, orange, brown, yellow, green all pretty. My bag was extra heavy today for it had pounds of inert bullets and a machine gun, all disposable. I gripped the gun like a mother would her baby.
I was there. I walked to where there were many people - men, women, and children. I lifted the gun, still in the pretty bag. I pulled the trigger pretending to panic like other people. I looked so normal panicking with a pretty bag in my hands. The leaves - red, orange, brown, yellow tumbling to the ground like the people - one by one.
I had some blood on one spot of my black pants. I was limping because I twisted my foot in a hole. I threw the bag into the near by river of crimson water. The screaming of the people I assaulted had no effect on me. Why did I attack? I’m a mad man killer robot. After my first taste of death I thrived for more and more.
A woman came running up to me and asked if I was hurt. I didn’t answer so I suppose she took that as a yes. She took off my glasses and looked me in the eyes. My brain was unsure of this woman either to kill or not. She looked at my leg and she said nothing was wrong. I vaguely heard her as I was thinking whether too or not. She reminded me of my wife but excluding the tramp like personality. I decided not to.
I believe this had some sort of effect on my brain. I went to the cops the next day and almost turned myself in. Now the sun seems like the eye of God knowing what I did. Every person who looked at my eyes I wouldn’t kill for I believed that I would be caught because of the guilt that I now felt. It drove me insane more and more every day. Eventually I guess when I wasn’t thinking I went to my next door neighbor and killed her. I felt so much guilt the next day I guess that it was that that drove me to try and commit suicide that day…