The other day I was walking home from school, letting my mind wander. Whenever I start to really think, I become unresponsive and all my focus and concentration is on whatever I am contemplating in my mind at the time. I do this quite often; a lot of my friends find me especially odd for it.

So, that day was just another one of those days where I abandon my friends and walk straight home, allowing my inner thoughts to surface and find out what kind of a person I am; no big deal, really.

Although... today... something MUST have happened. I didn't even realize exactly what I was thinking at the time, but... I was imagining how to murder my mom.

My MOM. I remember I was strangling her; my hands were bloody from her coughing blood onto them... and you know how in those funny cartoons whenever a person is choking another, the victim's eyes are bulging and their tongues are sticking out? Yeah, that's a little how my mother looked in this mental picture, except she had blood all over her... so much blood. She looked so scared of me, too...

Anyway, even more disturbing was the fact that, the person playing me in this fantasy, even while witnessing this horrific sight, was smiling. No, not only smiling, she was laughing. Her laughter was that of a child's who's just discovered a new plaything - light and airy, and full of joy. However, her eyes told a whole other story. They had such hatred and malice in them... the pupils were dilated, and the whites of her eyes were filled with those gross blue veins you can see on your wrists, only these were dark red, nearly purple.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't hate my mother. I don't even dislike her... so why would I want to murder her? I remember that while I was imagining this scene, I felt so happy and... relieved to have her dead. I was humming while walking down the street I was so happy, and I was waving at all the people I passed, which is extremely odd considering how antisocial I am.

Then, when I arrived home and hopped up the stairs to my room, I sat down on my bed and realized what exactly I was thinking. I remember thinking how much of a horrible person I am... What could have made me so horrible?

In those shows like "Criminal Minds" and stuff where the 'good people' are trying to catch the serial killers or psychopaths, something always happened to the crazies to make them who they are today.

They would be raped, or emotionally abused, or they could have witnessed a murder or something... nothing like that has ever happened to me. And yet, I still find myself thinking of murder and what it would be like to kill a person... often. This wasn't the first time something like this has happened.

So, this raises a theory. Maybe all humans, in the very recesses of their mind, have a desire to kill one another? It doesn't seem too far-fetched to me, because if there were no civilization, we would all be living by natural selection, killing one another for food... or maybe even just for pleasure.

...Have you ever thought of murdering, or even harming another? And if so, was it pleasurable for you, as well?

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