Satisfaction

Sometimes I get these feelings. No, 'feelings' isn't the right word... urge? That's not too strong, is it?

Sometimes I get these urges. I get the feeling nobody else really feels this way; I'm kind of alone in that respect... I mean, I like to think that I'm not some angsty little teenager, but I'm realizing more and more that nobody else hears these voices. These whispering little needles twisting themselves into my skin. There are never words, just pictures; a flash of a new scene overlaying on the one in front of me.

I'll be with my friends, I'll hug someone around their neck, my hand will travel across their throat from behind and suddenly BAM there's a knife in my hand, and there's blood running down their front. My muscles twitch with want, my fingers curl reflexively into claws, wanting to burrow into their flesh. I have to hold myself very still but the images burn themselves into my mind and I WANT. A few deep breaths let the impulse pass, but the desire is still there, thrumming through my veins.

Once I got hard think about these things. I was pressed up against a girl I hang out with at school... She thought it was for her. She was sort of right. It ended in an awkward fumbling and groping at her house after classes that day. It was my first time. I'll never understand all of that talk about sex being "precious" and it being special to give it away to someone; it was nothing but uncomfortable. The feelings would never compare to the ones I'd get just thinking about pushing my fingers through that crimson liquid as it flowed from the source. THAT was satisfaction.