Stress Relief

My heart beat at a deafening pace. The pressure inside my head felt as if it would cause it to explode. The stress was killing me but there was no way I could stop now. I was focused at the job at hand. I would see this through to the end.

Their life would end.

The struggle, the gasping for breathe would all but soon be over for them. Their life would slip from them. Their eyes would glass over staring out for help that will not come. In that instant, my heartbeat will slow, the stress of the moment will cease and I will be able to breathe once again.

This is my first kill. My first taking of another life. It was exhilarating. It was stressful. It was fun.

It was not something I had planned to do, no pre-planning, no stalking the perfect victim, no choosing the right spot. It was just a spur of the moment thing. A random act of violence as the papers would most likely say.

I was having a rather shitty day; my boss reprimanded me for not doing something that clearly was his responsibility but he needed an apt reason as to save face with his boss. I was forced to take an alternate route home, which added another hour to my already stressful commute.

So to take solace from this day, I decided to go to the park for a walk. Some fresh air, some sunshine and a little exercise are always good to relieve stress, right? Not at the park I went to it seems, as everyone there was too absorbed into their own little worlds of listening to their ipods, of working out, that they seemed to forget how to see beyond three feet in front of them or were unable to judge the speed they were traveling while on their bicycles or while running. Seemed as if I was invisible as almost every person out there nearly ran me over or bumped into me and with every instance, not one person would have the common courtesy to apologize or to say, "excuse me.”

What was to be a source of relaxation and stress relief became a source of just the opposite.

I just wanted to cry, to sit down on a bench and cry. To have a complete stranger ask me what was wrong, to put their arm around me, to afford me a hug to ease what was troubling me.

That did not happen. I sat on the park bench by myself, trying to relax, to take deep breathes to let all of it go; just to have a guy come up to me and ask me if I would move because his family liked to sit on that bench.

That was it; that was the last straw. I started to head home, only to be further accosted by the runners, the bikers and anyone else that felt it necessary to further piss me off. The finality came as a runner approached towards me and upon having to decide to pass me on the side that offered the entire road with a very wide berth as to pass without incident, he decided to pass on the other that only offered but a mere swath of free land that would only cause him to bump into me. Which he did and I managed to be able to push him as he did with enough force that it spun him around, off balance, causing him to falter on his step and crash into the bushes.

I being slightly ashamed at what I did went to the man to offer an apology as well as to offer a hand in helping him back up. What I received was an assault of expletives and threats, to which I fell upon him with ill intent as to end his life right then. I had no quarrel with the man other than an innocent bump as he passed while on a run but here I was with such hatred, with such a firm unbreakable grip on his throat, that any other person would be able to swear that man must have committed some sort of unforgivable grievance to warrant such an attack.

Once he was gone, I left him there in the bushes, just off the track. No one had seen our little bump or my aggressive reply or even yet still my vicious throttling of his person. I felt safe that my freedom would still be guaranteed with that knowledge.