Seventeen

I remember everything like it happened yesterday. I remember every little detail. I was barely seventeen and I once killed a boy. I cannot remember how I killed him but I do remember that it was not easy.

The blood was so dark and rich. I did not feel guilty about killing him because he tormented me each and every day of my life.
The boy howled in pain. He screamed and cried and begged me to stop.

It was very late when I ran up to my parent's bedroom. Mommy and Daddy were sleeping in the moonlight. I slowly opened the door that did not make a sound. I crept in the shadows up to the foot of their bed. I watched them sleep for a moment. My father then woke up screaming at me.

"Stop. What the hell are you doing Chuck?"

"What do you think?"

"Why the hell are you covered in blood?"

"Goddamn it Daddy! You know I love you but you have a lot to learn about life."