It was a normal day, full of children's laughter, teenager's recklessness, adults precision. The kind of day where you never thought someone would have the audacity to commit... such a violent act...
People always think the best of others, trusting them, caring for them, making sure their fine. But what if these basic premises of human thought were broken? What if they were ignored, tossed aside like a used rag? What would that person do? Would they be unstable? Would they hurt others? Apparently they would, according to the acts I witnessed, on the supposedly normal day.
At that time, I was in my home, preparing to care for a friend, like a good person should. He was sick, but according to the doctors there was nothing wrong with him... he was physically fine they assured me, just going through troubled times. I myself was too. There have been six murders in the past month, all of which left no trace. It unnerved me, I always thought of our town as a separate place, free form the chaos of the unstable place that was the world. War, famine, death; all seemed separate from us, as if we were protected by God's hand.
The murders took this protection away from me though, I no longer felt safe, I felt naked. But, I had to stop thinking about myself, there were other people to attend too, other people worse off then me. I first thought of my friend, he was bedridden and would have to be watched constantly. He would have to be fed, bathed, entertained. I then made my way to his house.
Once I set foot in there, in new something was awry. There was a coldness surrounding the house, as if sorrow bred there. I cautiously started looking for my friend. He was nowhere to be found, until I went to the bathroom. There he was, sprawled on the ground, asleep apparently, judging by the way his chest heaved up and down. I looked at him, and noticed strange things. He had blood on his mouth, and a knife in his hand, but no marks were made upon him. I looked around the bathroom, and pulled back the shower curtain. There, was the body of a headless girl, pieces missing from her flesh, as if they were chewed out. I jumped back, holding in the terror that was bursting inside me. It all became clear. My friend was the one who committed the murders, he was distraught because he feared being caught. I left the house as fast as I could.
As I layed in my bed, thinking about what I saw, I pondered over what I should do. Go to the police? Or ignore the matter entirely and pretend it never happened? I knew the latter would not do, the image would haunt me too much. But, if I went to the police I might be held accountable, after all I was the one responsible for him. I had signed the contracts, giving me responsibility of him. Still, I knew justice had to be given, and the murderer had to be punished.
The next morning, I worked my way to the station. I explained to the officers there what I saw. They asked me to stay there while the fetched my friend, as I would be needed later for questioning.
I saw my friend being brought in. I could not bear to look at him, knowing the acts he had committed. I tried to convince myself that he didn't do it, he was somehow framed, but deep down I knew it was true.
Later in the day, the police gave me the version of events my friend had supplied. They said he said that he was beaten, then framed to make it look like he did it. The police didn't believe any of it, and the evidence supported their thoughts. But, they wondered why he had been so sloppy with this murder, and not the others. They were beginning to suspect that I had committed the earlier murders, and he was an accomplice. They questioned me under a polygraph. I had come off as being truthful, but the police weren't so sure.
Meanwhile, the police had convicted my friend of cannibalism, and first degree murder. He was sentenced to death. I felt no shame over this, as I was to busy with my own dilemma.
After another round of questioning, I was released from the station. They found no evidence against me, and my 48 hours of hold were off. I was a free man.
But, questions still remained. Why did my friend commit those terrible crimes? Did I play a part in it? Was a the source of his pain and sorrow? My thoughts are clouded by the guilt that has settled over me. I cannot think straight, I feel joy in hurting myself. I am... damaged. I do not want to live this life anymore. I want it all to end! I want to be free of the terror that plagues my mind! I must confess my sins!
I made my way to the police station. They were surprised to see me there. Right in front of them I laid out the bag containing my sins. I opened it, emptied it, and there lay six girl's heads.