A Lesson In Psychosis

I blankly gaze at the still, naked form that’s crumpled at my feet. The puddle of blood around her head is starting to look sticky. It’s been about two hours since I’ve killed her. Her eyes are wide open, and staring straight at me. I just want her to go away.

She smells. She smells bad. The stench is thick and metallic. I like it. I slowly bend down and caress her mangled face. She was beautiful once. She’s even more beautiful now. I can’t stand looking at her any longer.

The knife feels heavy in my hand. I stare down at it with a certain curiosity, like seeing something for the very first time. I casually raise my arm above her, and bury the blade deep within her belly. I twist hard to widen the wound. I smile as I witness the flow of fresh blood. I take out the knife, and my fingers replace the blade. She’s still warm. I pick up the knife again, and slash an even wider wound. I reach inside and begin to feel around. My fingers enclose around a fleshy rope. I pull out my hand, and along with it, her small intestine. I smile as I wrap it around her neck. “A pretty scarf for you”.

She’s still staring at me. I sigh and stand up. I swiftly kick her in the face before I head into the kitchen. I go over to the sink and select my favorite spoon. It’s dirty, but I don’t care. I make my way back to her, and peer into her lifeless eyes. I take my spoon and carefully insert it to her left eye socket. I dig the spoon underneath her eyeball, and it only takes a couple of minutes of maneuvering before her eye is resting on her cheek. I grasp it and tug it free from the optic nerve. I stare at it for a moment before popping it into my mouth. Her ocular juices bitterly wash over my tongue as I chomp on it. It’s awful. Rubbery and salty. I want more. I again take my spoon and help myself to her other eye. There’s an explosion of fluid as I bite into it. I wipe my chin with my sleeve and swallow. She can’t see me anymore.

I brush my fingertips lightly over her lips. They’re so soft… like rose petals. I gently pull down on her chin and part them. A trickle of blood runs out of the corner of her mouth and down the side of her cheek. I lean in, and lick it off. I run my tongue upwards along the side of her jaw line, until our lips meet. I open her mouth wider, and the taste of blood is invigorating. I swirl my tongue around hers, and I can feel my heart pound with anticipation as I bite into it. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before.

I lie down beside her and rest my head on her chest. I swear I can feel it rise and fall as I stroke her matted hair. The silence is heavy, and it presses us further into each other. I start to drift off, but suddenly, she speaks. I hold my breath. I can hear her. I can barely hear her. She’s whispering softly into my ear, with a beautiful voice, hollow and dry. “I Love you” And I drift away.

It feels like hours have passed. I open my eyes and sit up. She’s quiet now. I look down at her face. Her eye sockets seem bottomless. I lean over and spit into one of them before jabbing my finger inside. "No... Not bottomless". I lick my finger clean before leaving her.

I feel dizzy as I begin my descent down the narrow hallway into the bathroom. I flick the switch. Harsh light illuminates the room. I look down at the sink, and it’s spotted with blood. A couple rusty straight razors adorn the countertop. I squint as I stare into the dingy mirror. “Who the fuck are you?” I stare vacantly at the reflection, hoping for a spark of recognition. It’s no use. With a shake of my head, I turn away and head into the bedroom. I walk over to the tiny night table that stands beside the mattress. I open the drawer, and pull out the gun. I give it a kiss before drifting back into the living room where I know she’s waiting. I kneel down next her, and once more lay my head on her chest. Again, she speaks. “I love you”

I insert the gun into my mouth and close my eyes. The cold, steel barrel presses against my tongue, as my finger presses against the trigger. “I love you too”.