I ran away panting as I collapsed to my knees. My torn clothes barely clung to my body. Rain pounded from the clouds above as my clothes became soaked in a mixture of rain, and blood. The harsh glow from the streetlight seemed almost blinding, as my eyes were struggling to focus. Five years… five long fucking years, and the pain will finally be over, the suffering will come to an end. I struggled to get to my feet, but fell back down in exhaustion. I started to drag my body across the ground, as the cold asphalt dug into my skin.

“Kill..kill…” I muttered weakly. The sound of metal clinking against the ground rang out as I continued to drag myself along the alleyway. 

The rain poured over me as I leaned against a nearby dumpster, the stench of garbage filling my nostrils.  Police sirens wailed in the distance, and hurried footsteps echoed past as people cleared the scene.

I knew I couldn’t be seen, I worked so hard to gain my freedom, I couldn’t let them take it away, I wouldn’t let them. I pulled myself up, falling over onto the side of a nearby dumpster, and leaned forward falling into it surrounded by trash, and filth. I was so famished as it’s been days since I last ate, I couldn’t stand it, I needed to eat… I’m starving.

Just then a cat jumped onto the dumpster, and started to meow, as it looked down at me quizzically, sizing me up, and seeing if I was worth it.

After accessing I wasn’t a threat, he jumped down, cuddled next to me to stay warm, and hid himself from the rain. The cat rubbed his head against me, meowing, and pawing at my soft warm hand, he started to lick my wounds, as the saliva from its tongue started to sting, when it made contact with my cuts. 

“H-hey little buddy.. Do you have a name?” the cat looked up at me before meowing again, and continuing to lick its paw, and nuzzle himself against me. 

Drool dripped from my mouth, as my stomach started to growl startling the cat making it stand up quickly. 

“D-don’t leave me…please” I reached my hand out, but fell short as my stomach started to growl again.

The cat quickly returned licking my face, trying to cheer me up.

I couldn’t take it, I craved food so bad and if I didn’t eat I couldn't save myself. The weak don't need saving right? The strong are those at the top of society. If I was strong I would never need to suffer again… I took my hand reaching for my arm, as my finger fiddled around with the metal zipper connected to my skin. I slowly tugged at it, as the smell of iron, decay filled my nostril, and my hunger grew stronger. I took my hand reaching into the gaping hole in my arm retrieving a scalpel, that was shiny, and pristine. The cat's tail suddenly stood up, almost like he could sense my malice, my anger, but it didn’t matter. The cat tried to dart away, but I grabbed it holding it down tightly like a predator stalking its prey. It screamed as my ears started to ring, it thrashed about, attempting to claw at me, but it was pointless. I took my scalpel, plunging it into the animal's body, as it fell limp, and the ringing ceased. I slit the animal open, as my mouth began to salivate and I couldn’t help myself anymore. My mouth tore into the creature, as my teeth gnawed on its meat, and ripped it from the bone. I tasted every bit of it in my mouth, as it’s cold and tender meat went down my throat yet I still felt nothing…nothing at all. After finishing my meal, I tossed the remains of the cat. Part of me felt bad for what I did, but another part of me loved it… I couldn’t get over the rush it gave me.

A week passes

I found myself surrounded by people, a large crowd in the middle of downtown Chicago, the streets were packed, and there was barely any room to move. A week, one long week of freedom, they couldn’t find me, I wouldn’t LET THEM FIND ME. I pulled the strings of my hoodie tight, and continued to follow the crowd, so as to not allow myself to stand out. These people I was surrounded by made me sick. They claimed to want peace for the city but only created more chaos, and animosity between them, and us. How am I A MONSTER, they did this to me… they created me right? 

“Ladies, and Gentlemen isn’t it a beautiful day!” A man’s voice boomed.

“YES!” the crowd chanted!
“I am Reverend James as we all know, and today we organize this protest to get the city to hear our cries, we walk these streets till our feet bleed, and we are heard!”

He was old, looking to be in his mid 60’s, his once blonde hair was shiny silver, and his hair barely seemed to be clinging to the top of his head. He was old enough to spend most his life existing before these curses bestowed upon us by the devil appeared. 

“These Deviants, bring nothing but disarray to a once peaceful society, we passed an amendment 30 years ago, that took away what was once a given right. The right to bear arms, we thought if we could remove these weapons of mass destruction, it would cut down on crime, and it did! The U.S was at peace,kids,women, and our hard working men were at PEACE!”

My blood started to boil, how can these people talk about peace, and justice when they allow themselves to be controlled like cattle.

“March!, as we take the streets, and we march till we are heard!”
“Say it with me now!”
“I don’t care, ship them out of here!” was chanted from the crowd.

We continued the march, with more people joining the protest, people gawked at the sight filming, and posting. We marched, and marched till we arrived in front of a nearby ice cream shop. Once we arrived the old bastard started to speak again, spewing the same nonsense about how Deviants are a threat, and don’t belong in their society. But this society is what needs to be torn down, and I’ll see fit that it happens. The crowd chanted lounder, and more passionately till all of sudden a man from the crowd was attacked. The villain talked about the injustice, and unfair treatment he endured throughout his life which resonated with me. Then all of a sudden before he could strike he was stopped by a group of mysterious “heroes”. God the word hero makes me sick. If people really knew what their “heroes” really were they would understand, they're no different than those who they call villains. After a few minutes of fighting the villain was defeated, but not without me realizing something, there were others like me, those who can see reality for what it was. I could be the one to change society. I can tear it down, and start anew. Police arrived shortly after to arrest the villain, throwing him in the back of the cop car, and charting him off. The fight was ingrained in my head, those teens are responsible…responsible for taking him away. My stomach growled again, the pain from not eating came back, even though I was free, my stomach still longed for more, the agony wouldn’t go away…

The following days I wandered, lost, cold, hungry… so fucking hungry. I had no home, no home I could go to at least. If I went back… They would send me back, I CAN’T GO BACK! My clothes stank, the smell of death and rancid milk emitted from my body, as I stumbled down a dark alleyway, searching for anything that could satisfy my hunger. I collapsed to the ground, tired and out of energy; this really was going to be the end for me. The world will go on, and no one will remember me, no one will remember the name Lorenzo Smith.