There I stood, feeling all alone as the judge lectured me. I was determined to win my case, but the demeanor of the fierce man next to me had me scared. It was between me and him, so why was everyone else here? They were all so devoid of emotion, no emotion when the gavel pounded the desk, no emotion when I broke into tears, and certainly no emotion when the subject of the death chamber was brought up, whilst I was scared for my life. There wasn’t a single decent person in this huge room. I was surrounded by creatures that only lived for the bang of a hammer to decide the life of another. Day in and day out, they watched my trial, never one word of motivation, but I felt their eyes on my back every second I talked, glares of menace and contempt. I couldn’t take it anymore; I wanted to end it the way I did with those 23 people that are the reason I’m here. There was no dissent in their eyes to agree with me and say I was innocent. I know I’m innocent! 

And this is all because I descended those stupid stairs and saw the group of them. I regret it, but there’s no turning back. They had a deficit anyway, so I did them a favor! I remember it so clearly. There they were, watching the game where the Seahawks came back from a 42-0 deficit. It was the biggest game of the year, and I couldn’t even see myself. I was so caught up in my mind that once I started, it was a blur. I don’t know why I did what I did, all I know is that I couldn't hold myself back. I determined I could take all 23 of them, and that’s exactly what happened. I vividly remember their blood on my hands, the screams, the way my fists ripped through flesh and bone to go from one side of their body to the other. I had always been skilled with my hands, and for some reason, I felt it was for this purpose. At the end of it all, I was stained in their blood, bodies on the ground, and I felt no remorse. 

I hate dictators. I hate humans. I hate arrogance. I hate happiness. I hate sadness. I hate anger. I hate passion. I am innocent! I know I am, yet why does no one believe me? It isn’t my fault. It can’t have been! I was given this gift for a reason, so why do they want me to put it away? I feel it again now, that feeling I had when I descended those stairs. There are maybe 50-100 people here. I guess I’ll test the gift I have been given, as I have no other option. Red blurs my head, and I lose myself.