Dark times came along. I have always been an exceptional actor Gary, I won’t lie to you. I knew how to act as if nothing was wrong. I would put on an act; smile for the camera but deep inside I was saying something else. At school, I seemed like a harmless fly but the few who knew me from observation said something totally different. The days were becoming hard. My mind was split, one side was sane and the other insane. I pictured myself as Smeagle from the Lord of the Rings movie. There was always another part of me, the dark side. My evil twin who desired nothing more than destruction and personal gain. My thoughts rolled like gears, I found myself talking to myself as if I was talking to another person. I cannot say I drew back from society because I never had a social life to start off with. However, I can make one thing very clear; society was at the mercy of my hands. Everyone I looked at was either to be killed or to be violated. My tongue was so deceptive, so misleading, and as slippery as that of a lurking viper. I would look at mommy, even though I was filled with so much love for her, I wanted to kill her. I looked at my father; I didn’t believe he was my father. He was more of an Egyptian plague that had been thrust through time. He had to die for being who he was in my life. Alcohol had taken its root in my life. I never enjoyed drinking; I even failed to see what was so tasty about a larger. It was no longer about the taste of alcohol but it was about the effect. My mind would be so free, so light and I was free to fly and dream. The harsh reality of life was not so evident. The anger, the hatred for my father was not so real when I was drunk. I would find it easier to laugh, to smile and to share jokes with myself. I would come home in my cousin’s hands because I was too drunk to walk. Such a common sight it was for me.
Talking to my other personality was the most enjoyable thing to do. He seemed to bear the weight of my shoulders. I couldn’t smile Gary, I was angry for so long that I forgot how to smile. I felt foreign in my own body, felt so void and inhuman. Everyday I looked into the mirror and saw a monster, a beast. I didn’t want to be the person I was but I did not know how to be anyone else. I had always enjoyed cooking because it made me mess around and make edible substances in the kitchen but one day something happened. I was preparing dinner and then my father walked in. He looked at what I was doing and what I was wearing and kept his silence. He then asked for me to do something of which I agreed and then said something on the side. He heard it and raised his voice at me. My rage shot up and I was holding a kitchen knife. He was only a meter away from me and now the time had come. I smashed the knife into the kitchen board. My anger grew more and I pulled the knife out of the board and held it. All the days of karate had suddenly come into my mind. He turned his back on me as he walked out and I advanced towards him. I looked at his back and analyzed his body. I knew that for me to stab him and make it impossible for him to survive, I had to hit him in three points. I began to mark the place I was going to stab him in my mind. Firstly I was going to stab him in the gut, then pull it out and go for his heart, pull it out and then stab him in the throat and leave the knife in his throat. I tightened my grip and began advancing to him. Just as I was about to unleash the first blow I thought of my mom. I stopped immediately and thought of her deeply. How could I hurt the person who loved me by killing the person she loved? I paused and almost cried. I retreated and released my anger on a banana tree. I tore the flesh off the tree of using my fists until it could not stand anymore. Mommy came to my rescue. I avoided contact with my father, I knew I would not kill him but I did not want to be tried.
Such did my torment grow. My evil twin began to mock me wave after wave. “You are weak, you idiot, he was right there for us to take but you failed. You idiot, you woman!” I remember what he said, word for word. I had him but I did not kill him. Was I a coward? Was I as rotten as something a cow spit out? Was it really true, that I was weak and unable to deliver what I said I would deliver? Was I just a vessel of empty words; was I just like my father? Was I not man enough to deliver that which I promised I would deliver, just like my father? I felt like such a weakling. I hated myself for letting him go. I really hated myself. Looking at my face filled me with such disgust that I felt that shearing my skin off would make me look at myself differently. Cutting off my tongue seemed so luring. Why keep a lying tongue that speaks of what I cannot do. I was the idiot; I was the fault in the equation. I was the loose end to the rope that had to be cut off.