Oneshots.

I don’t know why i ever moved here, why I thought I could become something. I don’t know why I ever agreed to leave the womb-like comfort of a small town. I certainly don’t know....anything.
I don't know anything.
Don't know anything.
I've always been told I don't know anything
But I know everything.
And I'll tell them nothing.

I gulped and imagined standing in the streets again, almost drifting of into sweet sleep as I imagined the steel skeletons stretching above me, still smoking from the explosion.
I smiled, still with my eyes closed.
I could almost smell the fire in the air, the chaos all around me....the wonderful imaginary screams of so many cruel people drowned out my cellmates obnoxious grunting as he jacked off in the corner.
I was back in paradise, with the world crashing down around my ears, as the city fell at my feet.

That city had been so cruel to me. Everyone I'd met- they all wanted something I didn't have.
The bums wanted money, everyone wanted courtesy, my college professors wanted me to work harder faster, more, more, more......I'd worked hard. I had never slacked off.
Why didn't they see how hard I had worked?
I never passed the final exam.
A half mark would have been all it would have taken-
This place, these people has squashed my dreams, dragged me down into a dark abyss.......They ruined me.

And now, they in turn were ruined.
I had brought them all crumbling to their shit-soaked knees- the filthy bums, the polished businessmen, the commuters on the train who had blocked out their life with their iPods, but couldn’t block out the explosion that ripped their world apart.

I smirked and opened one eye to watch the guard outside my cell stare at me with loathing fascination. I felt rebellious. I felt horrible. Despite all I had done, I had to shake up at least one more persons life. I closed my eyes again and said in a loud, clear voice, 'Did I kill any of your friends?"
I didn't expect him to reply. Guards weren't supposed to talk to the inmates, particularly me. In case my words suddenly turned to razorblades and ripped them apart or something.
Apparently this guard wasn't afraid of my words turning into razorblades. [Which some people truly seemed to believe I could do.]
"Yes"
my eyes snapped open and I smirked at him. He visibly shuddered and looked away from me.
"Naughty" I murmured in a low voice,
"You're not supposed to be talking to me silly boy. You'll get in trouble."
I closed my eyes and lay back on the uncomfortable bunk.

Sometimes it's nice to be feared. I've discover it can also be lonely. People pray to God all the time-he's their imaginary friend. Theres even a special club you can get into, with a clubhouse and everything. Secret ceremonies, secret languages and stories to tell! And of course, when another club, tried to take your turf, tried to take your members, you were at war. And your imaginary friend told things to the leader, and they guided you so that the blood lust was lost with dignity-everyone died with dignity if you died for the club.

I wondered if they would still use the hole in the ground as their clubhouse. I wondered which club they wold war with over this. I belonged to no one, so who could they blame? I was not big enough to blame.
I don't know what I have against them. I think it was their lies. Their false unity, their judging- on clothes, on status....I had done a good thing. All the judging people were gone now. Well, not all. But some of them.

A terrorist is what everyone saw me for now.
Maybe a terrorist is what I am.

I suppose I'll never know. What I could have been will never be.
What I am now, is a dead man.