Reccolection

Her eyes were trusting, her skin tender, but it was when she spoke, when she said, "I was so worried about you," that I knew I was in safe hands. Something in her voice made my heart melt.

Do you believe in love at first sight? Do you believe in instant mental and physical attraction?

I do, now. I knew that I loved that stranger instantly, and that I would love her beyond eternity. And when time finally comes to an end, I will love her still. I could never have hurt her, the way those fools claim. But they don't understand. They condemned me before I had even stepped into that courthouse. They said terrible things. They said that I murdered her. They said that I was an animal, and now they want my life. But I'm not afraid.

There's really no need to write this down. I can assure you that once my story has been told, you will remember it for the rest of your life. Who knows, you might even win a prize. I'm sure you'd like that wouldn't you? To further your career by exploiting the pain and suffering of another.

Do you want to hear about how much we loved each other? Do you want to hear about how she took care of me, and slowly nursed me back to health with all the tenderness of an Angel? No. No I don't think you do. Your readers have no room for sentimentality. They do not wish to know how Lisa took care of me even though she knew that I was dangerous. She knew that I was an extinguisher of lives, but she loved me never the less. That, my friend, is the true meaning of unconditional love. But they do not wish to be bored by another' s deepest feelings and innermost thoughts. After all, we know that happiness makes poor reading. I'm sure you'd rather I make good-speed towards the more gruesome and grotesque parts of my story. The first of many nightmares, for instance, following my accident. It was all so real, the screams of hell cut the air like tempestuous whips playing background music to a world of pain and torment. There was a dark room. A crimson tide of blood washed over the floor and walls, and there was a stench, the likes of which your feeble mind could never fathom. Dismembered body parts hung from the ceiling and swayed from right to left and back in unison. But what shocked me was not the feeling of fright. Oh, no. I wasn't frightened. I was in a state of euphoria. My every nerve tingled with ecstasy; my heart pounded with excitement and my knees trembled with pleasure.

Oh, I know it may sound nauseating to you now, but that is because you don't understand yet. But you will. Oh, you will so understand.

Each night, for three nights the dreams continued, intensifying each time: by night I was in ecstasy, but by day, I was becoming weaker and weaker. Lisa tried to keep up my strength by feeding me hot soup and vegetables. But it was no use. I couldn't keep any of it down. I couldn't eat, I couldn't drink, and I couldn't go outside. At the time I didn't know why, but something was telling me to stay within the sanctuary of my room. I know now that it was my instinct of self-preservation that wouldn't allow me to leave the warm darkness of that room.

And still the dreams continued.