As I gazed out of the basement window, I couldn’t help but stare in amazement at the snow falling. It was Christmas time and to others it made it all the more festive but it just bugged me. Christmas was a time of the year that I dreaded. And the snow for some reason seemed to exaggerate my emotions. I made me detest the human race for attaching sentiment to weather.
I could hear my playmate struggling against the restraints of the cling film. He was scared and sweating. That made me feel good. My shiny toys were shimmering under the glare of the spot lights. The snow was stealing my concentration.
With purpose I strode over to my little friends and decided that I had to deal with the feeble human I had chosen to play with. As I picked up the biggest, sharpest instrument. I couldn’t help but be more than a little distracted by the crisp white snow lurking outside of my playroom. I needed to focus on the task at hand but it just wouldn’t stay. It wasn’t be first time I had done this and I knew for certain that it wouldn’t be the last. But the whiteness was stealing my usually calm thoughts. I had to focus before it was too late. So without a second thought, I walked over to the runt and started slashing as fast as I could.
Even when he took his finally breath I carried on, as if I was filled with such rage and fury. And before I realised what I had done the feeling subsided and I felt relief. The mess was horrific but I would deal with that later. While I was still dripping with blood, I made my way outside and let it leave crimson stains on the blankets of snow. It made me smile. It made the voice inside my quiet, for now.