I was sure that growing up I was able to control myself fairly good. Some people annoy me to the maximum but I quickly regain my composure everytime I had the urge to punch someone. I know that it’s not that fault because sometimes people are just born that way. “It’s their natural characteristic,” as I would explain it to myself in a pathetic afford to keep myself contained from doing something “stupid”. Of course, now, everything changed ever since I started to hear the voices in my head. If I have known better, I would have done something instead of remaining quiet all this while. If only I did something, then I might not be hearing voices in my head. I would still be me.
“Why didn’t you do something then?” the voices in my head asked me during one of our conversations. “Well, if I did, I couldn’t stop,” I told them and while I have no way of proving it, I knew it for sure. “Stop regretting then,” they said. “You know you could just ignore everything we told you,” they said to me. “If you hate it, you can choose not to do it,” they said. “The price is simple. You die,” they explain. “I can’t kill myself,” I said to them. “Why not?” the asked. “You hate killing people just because they annoy you and by dying you will save many people from being your next victim,” they said. “Why not just take the Utilitarian approach and just sacrifice yourself?” I was asked. “Are you sure it’s the Utilitarian approach?” I asked back.
“Sure when I die I will stop myself from killing more people,” I start to explain. “But all my victims so far are bigots. They are either abusive, robbers, killers, racists and sexists. Now that they are dead, they will no longer hurt anyone. The accumulated happiness of people not suffering anymore from these acts of the people that I murder is higher than the good that will come from me killing myself,” I explained, trying to form a convincing argument. “Besides, I’m not a utilitarian,” I told them. “I don’t believe in letting a small group of people suffer for the ‘greater good’,” I said. “That’s simply bullshit,” I continued. “Plus most people claim to be utilitarians because of the name. It sounds cool,” I reasoned. “If you change it to something like murdertarianism, nobody will claim to be one,”
“So,” they said. “If you choose not to die, you will need to bear with the consequences and stop complaining,” I was told. “I’m not complaining,” I said. “I was just explaining why I didn’t do anything to people that annoyed me before you suggested that perhaps I should just end my miserable life,” I said. “Are you really sure you can’t prove that you will get out of control?” the asked. “Don’t you believe me? We live in the same body,” I asked them back. “I really can’t prove it to you,” I explained. Of course, that was the only time I ever lied to the voices in my head and I will never know if I knew I was lying because the subject was not brought up again.
There was once where I actually did something towards someone who annoyed the hell out of me. It was back when I still studying and we were given group assignments to do. Being the introvert that I was, of course, I hated it but since I wanted to pass, I tried my best to be as participating as I could. The only problem was that my somewhat de facto group leader was too pushy and wanted everything to be done perfectly and everyone to follow his idea. It’s not that he didn’t listen to anyone else, it’s just that whenever someone voices out an idea, he would raise his voice, simultaneously signalling his disagreement. I couldn’t care much at first because, at that time, there were no voices in my head telling me to go around killing people. Sure they were whispers in my head but it was nothing that I couldn’t control.
Unfortunately for the idiotic person, one day, I simply lost control. After the meeting, I was determined to give me pieces of my mind. He took the shortcut home, walking through the woods and I have always known that that was the silliest mistake anyone could ever do. You see, despite various believes, in the woods, nobody could hear you scream. Trust me, I’m a serial killer. I crept up behind him and punched him on the head, much to my surprise. He fell to the ground and I would have left but I couldn’t. Dark energy immediately surrounded me. I remembered all the time I had to keep quiet to not ‘hurt anybody’s feeling’. “Screw your feelings,” I said to him and started kicking him on the face.
Then, I took out my knife and started to stab him multiple times on the stomach and I was sure he died soon after but I didn’t stop. Every stab I did, removed a feeling of anger in my heart. “I think I’ll give you some makeover,” I said and cut off his ears. If that wasn’t enough, I took a large rock and used it to bash his face and just before I left, I cut out his heart and swallow some parts of it before spitting it out back on whatever was left on his face. I was so sure that I would be charged with murder that day but to my surprise, nobody found his body.