[Set in Broadmoor Junior Psychiatric Hospital]

The door, unlocked. Turned the handle.
Walked in. Knife in hand. Crept up beside her. Raised the knife. Rammed it down. Pulled it out. Blood, gushing streams of blood. She screamed. Raised the knife once more. Rammed it down again. Again, again, again-

I suddenly awoke, surrounded by complete darkness, but brief moments of my dream still flashed in front of me. The bloody knife, the blood-soaked sheets, her neck and face riddled with cuts and gashes. I didn't feel any remorse for killing my mother, but for some reason, I repeatedly dream of her murder.

Maybe it's because deep down inside I know that she did not deserve to die, but killing animals was no longer satisfying. I was always left wanting more. I remember how it felt to kill my sister's hamster, I'd killed two birds and a squirrel since then. It failed to give me that same thrill. I knew the only way I would feel that thrill again, was to do the unthinkable. But I would never murder anybody!, I thought to myself.

I tried to suppress my...