His First Murder

JASON

I am not a murderer. I am not a murderer. I am not a murderer.

A voice repeated over and over in my head as I created a hole in the rug with my fast paced steps as I paced the room.

I wanted to leave the house and just get away from this place in case my fears were confirmed but somehow, I found myself back in my room with the door locked. I can't remember coming here or locking the door, like I was in a daze. A memory clearing daze.

All I remember is Dad falling down the stairs like a heavy sack of potatoes and landing with a very dull, odd thud. Is that what it sounded like when one falls terribly?

He fell down the stairs and I was the one who pushed him.

"Fuck!" I shout and slap my palm across my right cheek harsh enough to sting but I don't feel any pain which only makes me more frustrated.

"Fuuck!!!" I shouted at the top of my voice, pulling at my hair till stars began to pop out behind my eyes and the stinging pain coupled with the furious stomping of my foot helped to