Angry

"Jason, no. You'll hurt yourself!"
kill her...
I dropped the knife to the ground below me. Blood dripped from the fresh cut mad in my palm. It mesmerized me, this blood. I'd never seen my own before. She protected me too much.
kill her,,,,
"Yes ma'am," I replied obligingly, bowing my head. I was always respectful of mother. She was in charge of the medicine that made me better. That made me not think thoughts like, "kill her."
But... one day.... she forgot....
"Jason, what are you doing home so early?"
I still remember how sweet her voice sounded. It was like chimes in the wind. Tinkle tinkle...
"I hate you, mother," I growled. I didn't know why I was so angry. I just was. Maybe I was angry because she was controlling, never leaving me be the way that my friends' parents did. Maybe I was just.... angry to be angry.
My mother's face turned confused, and she stepped towards me with open arms. I remember hesitating in my actions, wanting to go to her and jump into her arms. That's what I usually did when I was angry, and mother always comforted me. But today... I just couldn't.
kill her...
I glared at her, ignoring her arms for the moment. She made me so angry, wanting me to forget my anger. why couldn't I just be angry without her calming me down!? My friends, their parents didn't do that!
Why am I so different...?
"Jason, what are you doing?" I could hear my mother call from the living room. Her heels tapped on the ground as she moved towards the kitchen, where I stood.
I leaned over the kitchen sink, searching for the item which I loved so dearly. I loved how my reflection was so shiny and distorted on its surface. I loved how sharp it was, and the large amount of potential that it had in it's small size.
"What are you doing, Jason?" My mother repeated. She now stood in the doorway, a worried expression on her face. I hated to make her worry,
I ignored her inquiry for the second time, reaching my hand into the freshly made dishwater. It was still warm, scorching my skin as I broke it's surface. My hand searched the bottom of the water, looking for that special item. I wanted it, needed it.
Finally, I felt something slice my palm as my hand passed over it. It was sharp, and felt like steel.
My item.
I grinned and grabbed it, pulling it out of the water. I held it delicately in my hands, as if it was a newborn child. Although, I really wouldn't be able to understand that term. My mother never let me hold babies.
"Jason, put that-"
"Shut up!" I shouted, turning on her. I didn't want her to ruin my joy. This knife, this item... I loved it. It helped me.
"Jason... give mommy the knife," she whispered, stepping towards me. Her voice was soft and her eyes were gentle as she tried to show me that she wasn't trying to hurt me, or my item.
But I didn't believe her.
She got too close to me. She was going to take it from me!
I gripped the knife angrily in my palm and jutted forward with it. It fell into her side, right below her ribcage, and sat there. It looked so comfy. I wanted to make it even more comfortable.
So I pushed it in, only to please it. I wanted to make my item happy. And this was what it wanted. It told me so.
My mother let out a gasping noise from her mouth. Red gooey liquid dripped from where the knife was. It dripped to the ground, drop by drop. It was creating its own little puddle indoors. A puddle of red.
I don't like it here anymore. Pull up.
I listened to the item. Its words were like gospel to me. I enjoyed getting these messages, these tiny little phrases. It let me know that it loved me, too.
I pulled up on the knife, dragging it upwards. My mother cried out, but I didn't listen. I wasn't doing this to please her. I just wanted to please the knife.
Her eyes closed finally and her breathing stopped. Finally. I pulled my beloved item out of her side and she fell to the ground. I grinned and went to grab her a towel to clean up the mess she had made.
I found a towel in the linen closet and cleaned up the mess in the kitchen. I even helped my mom change her clothes. All better.
"There..."
"I love you, mommy. I can't wait until daddy comes home."
I wrapped the bloody towel around my shoulders and lay next to her, closing my eyes as we fell asleep together.
I love you, too, Jason...