Why are people so unpleasant? Yes, a very general statement indeed, but it is one that seems to fit the pungent cesspool of mankind. Though I know I should care and appreciate them, it seems so frustratingly difficult to do so when they defy all care and appreciation to there own kind. I have thought deeply of this matter, to find out why they defy all such trivial things as simple respect, but all their faces show is deep hatred to their friends, to their neighbors, to themselves. Even up to so called 'Adulthood' they clap and shout at the impending pain they inflict upon others. How I despise them! How I want to just pick up a dagger and lunge it into their selfish souls!

The way they look at each other petrifies me. They look on each other with hate and disgust. They look at me like some hideous bug that must be smashed instantly. I can tell what they think of me just by the way that they look into my eyes. In those moments I can tell that they think of me as waste that must be dumped into the sewer.

Of course, it may be possible that I am grotesquely insane. I just may be some psychopath who does not realize that he is crazy. I may just have a slightly distorted viewpoint about reality. It is actually pretty interesting.

In the latter part of the morning, I walk down Main Street in the downtown area, which is one of the busiest times during the day. I notice several people as they pass from behind me or seem to walk in front of me. They try to pretend that they do not see me. They look away instead and hope that I may not take notice. Some do seem to stare for a second or two, most likely in their repulsive disgust.

I walk down towards the local coffee shop like I do every day before noon. It is up the street just a little ways, just a few more blocks. It is one of the few things that ever brings me any sort of pleasure. It is like I am not even allowed by fate to feel real happiness anymore. I feel as if there is a steel wall that is specially built to isolate my soul from positive feelings. But of course, as I mentioned a couple paragraphs ago, I just may be grotesquely insane.

As I walk by, I notice a couple old ladies walking towards me. They just seemed to be so innocent with their cheery dispositions. I just ignore them. They do not seem to notice me or care about my existence. Within seconds, they just walk past me.

Suddenly, I notice something. When they are both behind me, they start giggling. But what are they giggling at? Did they say a funny joke? No, wait. I did not here them say anything while they walked by. I turn around to have a quick look at them. They are still laughing.

Wait a second, now I know what they are laughing at. They are laughing at me. It has be. I will bet they think I look funny. They are probably making fun of me because they think I am a freak. They only wanted to hide their own shame of themselves so they just pour it on me like sewage. Those old imps! How I just hate people who dump their shit onto me! If I could just… No wait. I just cannot. Not yet. I just will not drop down to their lowly level. At least not while I am in control.

I try to forget them and start walking again. But I notice that a few other people seemed to have noticed me. Must have noticed me investigating the two old ladies. No matter. I will just have to ignore them. I am sure they will just forget that I am even alive.

A few steps later, I notice that a couple people still seemed to be watching me. When I turned to them, they quickly turned away, like they thought I would not notice. I felt my forehead become a little red. My body started to sweat. A couple people started to whisper to each other. But what about? What are they saying about me? Probably something vile. I slowly creep to them as to get a closer look.

They still did not seem to notice. They continue to whisper. I crept closer. Suddenly, they turned and looked at me. They appeared to be a little suspicious. Suddenly, I feel sweat drip down my back. What are they going to say to me?

"Can we help you sir?" they asked in a polite tone. Of course it is polite. What better way to ease my suspicion? But I know what they want to do. I bet they want to make me feel comfortable now so they could come back and stab me later. Yeah, that's it. But anyway, I should probably just play along.

"Oh, no thank you. I just zoned out for a few seconds," I fibbed. "But thank you anyway." I tried to maintain a casual tone. I hope they did not notice anything. I slowly walked away, yet keeping them in the corner of my eye.

I walked further down the road. More people seemed to be walking past me. They did not appear to notice me, but what are they really seeing? What do they really think of me as I walk past?

I quickly glance in the face of a stubby middle-aged man. He rolled his eyes to me. Why is he looking at me? Does he want to feel good about his own looks? He probably believes me to be deranged, probably wants me off the street. Of course, I know how people work. They think contrite thoughts about their own kind with, of course, no regret whatsoever.

He just walked on by without another hint of repugnance towards me. Well, maybe he did not notice me. Maybe he just does not care enough to think of me.

But suddenly, I noticed another man staring at me with a disgusted face. I notice myself in the window of a store. I looked incredibly besieged and enervated. My face appeared rather red and I noticed that I am drooling just a little. A bit embarrassed with myself, I turn away from the street and wipe my mouth off.

Better calm down. People are starting to take notice. Shit! Another guy is staring at me! And what is he thinking? That I am a pervert? This is why I hate people. Always staring at those who they believe are inept and worthless. I wish they would all just drown themselves in gasoline.

Better keep walking. They will just loose interest anyway. They always do. Every single day they only stare for a few seconds tops. I can get them out of my mind. I just have to keep my mind focused. Yeah, that's it. Just keep walking. Good.

I see the coffee shop just a block away. Finally! I can see it! A safe place away from the selfish eyes of the public. I quickly walk up to its front door at first. Then it started to turn into a jog. Finally, I am almost sprinting.

But wait! Are people noticing me? I slow down just feet from the door for a look around. The people around me seem to be paying no heed. They're merely going about their usual activities, totally blind about what is really going on around them. Sometimes, this is a benefit to me. So glad that no one is paying attention to me…except those little kids standing at the corner.

They are all staring at me. And what is this? They are all laughing at my pain. They're under the impression that I am insane. They think I am but an insane abnormality brought upon this earth to plague, bully and torment. And why don't they stop. It amuses them even more knowing that I realize their existence. They want me to notice them laughing at me as to augment their own amusement.

I slowly reach down to my pocket. Within seconds, I feel a wooden handle. My faithful dagger! Oh how I just want to silence their laughter. How I want to separate their taunting laughter and hate so I can bury their heads in it!

However, once they saw me reach into my pocket, they suddenly started to walk away in the other direction. They realize what I am about to do. Finally some human beings smart enough to know when to stop. Well, at least I did halt their laughter.

After one last rummage around the street, I find that no one else has yet to pay any attention. Such a relief. I turn towards the coffee shop and walk in.

It is a pretty admirable place. The windows are never filthy and the floor is always shined. The tables are usually right by the windows in the light. The whole shop always seemed to be so contented and delightful. It is one of the few things that brings me any joy.

I walked up to the front desk. I see a new employee working the desk and cash register who seemed to be pretty nice upon first glance. He is a tall, yet slender man probably in his early thirties. He gave me friendly smile that quickly gained my trust. I smiled back. Once I reach the front desk, I was ready to order.

"I'll just have one cup of plain coffee," I told the man.

"That's it?" he replied. "You sure that's all you want? I can add sugar or cream if you want." I nodded my head. I am not really in the mood for anything special or fancy at the moment.

"Well, if you want," he said as he filled my cup. I noticed that after these last words, he looked upon me with a sly smile. It looked so loathsome. What opinion is he trying to hide under that smile? He is probably thinking about how stupid I must be. I hate that smile so very much. How sick and vile it looks!

"Well, here you go, buddy," he stated once he handed me my cup. Wait a minute. Buddy? I hate it when people call me 'buddy.' It sounds so demeaning, especially when said by some total stranger. In these moments I can tell when someone thinks of me as mere crap. Mothers call their little boys 'buddy.' It's how adults speak to children. It just seems so demeaning. It makes me wonder why I talk to strangers (which, to me, is everyone) at all.

I take another quick look into the man's face. He is still looking at me with a transient smile used only to conceal his own vanity. He is trying to shroud all the shit loaded up in his soul, but I can smell it. He probably thinks that I am nothing but diminution. I wish he would die.

Within a few minutes, I finish my coffee. It is such a relaxing drink that eases my tattered nerves and focuses my mind. I quickly get throw my cup in the trash and walk out the store.

"See you later, buddy," the man boasted behind me. God, I hate that word so very much. It makes me so irate.

Once I left the shop, I felt refreshed to be away from that man. However, as I looked around, I realized how busy the road was. I saw at least fifty people within three blocks of where I am standing. I noticed that a few gave a quick glance to me. I feel my pulse rate increase. Why must there be so many people here? What are they thinking? Will they think I am going insane?

I slowly start walking down the sidewalk. Looking back to the coffee shop's large windows, I notice that the man was laughing. Though he isn't looking in my direction, I bet he is laughing at me. I just know it.

I looked around. There are so many people here. Why are they all glancing at me? They are probably thinking that I am insane. That has to be it. Everyone already seems to believe I am crazy. Though it is possible that I may be grotesquely insane, it now seems more so that I am the only sane being in a crazy universe.

I walk further down the road. I pass an old man. He gave me a quick smile. I think I know what he is hiding in his face. He does not want me to realize his true nature. He is just like the rest. Just like a typical demon in this stagnant sewer of umbrage.

Two more people follow a few yards behind me. I look back and see a couple of young girls giggling to each other. As I turn my head back around, their laughter increases. I feel sweat slowly build upon my back. My heart rate starts to augment. I walk faster, yet they still seem to follow me. Why are they walking in my direction? They probably want to see how 'crazy' I really am. It is probably just some little game for them. I walk faster still.

Finally, they turn into a store behind me. Relief flows through my soul like a river, but only to be dammed up as I notice several people walk towards my direction. Panicking, I quickly try to dart off to my right. However, I see two more people walk in from that direction. They all must be congregating around me. They probably think of me as nothing more that just a little sideshow with my only purpose is to bring light into their bleak and meaningless lives.

Some seem to walk by me, trying not to notice. Others seem to glance at me. I reach down once again for the knife in my pocket. I continue to look around at he people. I know that they think I am just some deranged lunatic. I just know it.

Oh no! I am talking out loud to myself! Now they are watching me. They are all laughing at me. I am just like some television show to them. They think that I am incapable of realizing that I notice them. Oh, I will show them. I'll show them all!

Sweat continues to roll down my side. I grab the knife at its handle. I slowly pull it out. They continue their assembly. I notice several people laughing. More people laughing at me! I really wish that they could explain what is always so funny about me. I am so sick of people laughing at me. That is it! I am going to do it now!

I pull the knife out of my pocket and held it out in front of me. I quickly turn to the nearest person next to me. It is a young woman in her mid twenties. As I hold out the knife, she stares at me in terror and shock. It is so nice when people give me attention without mocking me. It is nice that she is not laughing anymore. With these last thoughts, I lunge the knife into her pitiful soul. I quickly pull the knife out as her body falls to the pavement.

I then turn to the next person: an elderly man looking on in terror at the horror I just committed. I quickly slash the knife across his neck. I then laugh as he falls. Well, people laughed at me for their entertainment. Now it is my turn.

But I notice several more people now staring at me while others flee in terror. I bet the ones looking at me are watching me kill people for fun now. They must enjoy watching me and thinking I am insane, especially at the cost of their own lives. Of course, they may be paralyzed with terror. But they still laughed at me before.

I quickly turn to them. I impale a middle-aged man instantly. He quickly falls to the ground as well, with blood rolling down his side. I look up to the other people as I pulled the knife out. They finally started to run. I guess they finally realized that they should not look upon me for their own amusement.

I quickly chase after them. I run up to a lagging overweight man and plunge the dagger into the back of his neck. He fell with the knife stuck through his skin. Blood flowed through the incision. I laugh to myself silently as he made his last breath. This is actually pretty amusing.

I see a few more people stare at me from a distance by a tree. I quickly pull the knife from the man's neck and begin to chase them down. They stood paralyzed with narcosis. Before they could run, I quickly swipe the dagger across the faces of two of them. They were middle-aged women probably in their late thirties. I then quickly lance the knife through the third person's chest, who was a man of thirty. He plunges to the pavement as his blood drenches the sidewalk. I turn my attention once again to the women, who had fallen to the sidewalk. I quickly lash the knife into their backs. They fall face first into the concrete as their blood mixes with that of the man.

I look around me again. I see another man not far from me as he ran for his life. I quickly grab my knife and pitch it out at his face. It suddenly landed straight into his forehead. A split second later, it penetrates through to the other side. He falls with blood spurting through both sides of his impaled head. I laughed some more. I know who that man is. He glances to me every single time he passes by me. I am very sure that he thought I was critically insane, just like everyone else in this worthless, cruel world. But I guess he will not be thinking much of anything about me from now on.

I notice that by now the street was clearing up. The people who had once watched and mocked me had run away for safety. They are now scared of me. I then look to the seven corpses laying on the ground. Never again will they look to me with disgust. They will never again think of me as crazy. I look down the road where the masses had fled away to. Unlike the seven dead before me, a happy ending had happened for them. I hope they think about how they look at me. They will have the rest of their lives to think of this. I hope they think quickly because they may not have a long life ahead of them in which they may think.

I slowly pull the knife from the man's skull. A clean it off on his shirt. Putting it back in my pocket, I quickly walk down the street, enjoying the peace and solitude I so rightfully pursued. No one is here to stare at me now. As I hear impending sirens of the police in the distance, I quickly begin to run off the street. As I finally reach my home, I think back about he events of the day. Apparently, I really am grotesquely insane.


A/N: I hope you enjoyed this story. Ijust had the idea in my mind and wanted to write it.