Everything feels like a blur, like the memories of a dream.

I feel sick, yet relieved. They’re gone. The monsters are gone.

That bastard Nakazama is in a pile by the radiator outside of the kitchen. I counted the stab wounds: thirty-three all in the torso. Three quarters of them hit vital organs. The lungs, the liver and the heart mostly.

Chigusa, his whoring wife, is laid out on the carpet just on the inside of the living room where they had their weekly orgies with their friends every week.

She only has one wound. The blade broke off the knife as it entered her throat, cutting right through the jugular artery. The carpet is bleached red. I wonder if it’s leaking to the apartment downstairs.

I don’t know how long it’s been since they died. I know I got back after church, but the sun’s starting to go down right now.

Is this all a dream? Is this all just a fantasy I’ve been wanting to do for so long brought to life by my own imagination? Will I wake up and have to deal with Nakamaza wanting me in the middle of the jerk circle again, have to deal with Chigusa fondling me…

Or maybe it’ll happen again and I’ll see that freak as a monster again and I’ll have to kill him. That bitch will come to see what the noise was and I’ll stab her in the throat again.

I killed them. I killed my foster parents rapists.

And now I’m writing this, asking myself just one question;

I can’t go home. I stopped going to school a month ago. I slept on a bench in last night. I don’t know what is going on. I should just kill myself, everything has broken apart… even worse than it had before.

I cleaned up the place before I even knew what was happening, like I wasn’t consciously aware of what I was doing. Like I was possessed or something. All the time all I could think was just what they did to me… all I could think of was the pain I felt when Nakazama pinned me down and violated me, the indignity of Chigusa sticking her fingers in me and the fear of being surrounded by their friends.

Now I’ve nothing. Just the clothes on my back, my old school uniform, an address book and a little bit of money.

I didn’t want to burn the house down. But I had to. I did the same to the bodies. Burned them to a crisp.

I’m sat here on a park bench, writing in the notes section of the address book, trying to make sense of things…

Why did I do it? What made me do it? I try to think back, but all I remember is small details.

I came back from church, I went into the kitchen to make a sandwich, Nakazama came in and opened the refrigerator, Chigusa told him he better not be drinking out of the carton of OJ, he said he wasn’t and did it anyway. I was afraid of him, but I took one look at him and I remember wind.

There was a gust of wind, but the air con wasn’t on and all the windows were shut, I think. Then Nakazama looked like he was changing before me. He grew several feet into something that wasn’t human. Like a werewolf from American movies or something.

He had a wolf’s head, claws and sickly dark fur with blotches of grey. Then I heard words, it sounded like my father… but greater. It said, “NEVER SHALL INNOCENT BLOOD BE SHED, YET THE BLOOD OF THE WICKED SHALL FLOW LIKE A RIVER.”

Then it happened. I’ve never been as angry as I was in that moment. I’ve never had a temper or had anger-management problems, but all of a sudden I felt something wash over me that I’d never felt before.

I was holding a knife at the time. A sharp one. I stabbed it into Nakazama’s gut, ripped it out and stabbed it in again and again. He dropped the carton and spat out the orange juice. Some of it dibbled down onto my head. I just didn’t stop. I stabbed him over and over again as he backed up out of the kitchen and slumped against the radiator. He was dead and Chigusa asked what was going on. She came around the corner at the same time I lashed out at her, stabbing her in the throat before the blade broke off and lodged in her. She was choking, spluttering and bleeding heavily from the wound. Then she slumped over on the floor and stopped moving.

As I write this, I just saw a revolving billboard on one of the buildings change. I can’t explain how as I knew it looked different when I started writing these notes. I couldn’t turn away as I read it.

It was originally an advertisement for some kind of self-help group for homosexuals by some foreign company.

It had a smiling man with some slogan that I can’t remember… now it has an androgynous hairless freak with shark-like teeth and the slogan now reads “KILL THE RAPISTS!!”

The creature on the billboard, that bastard Nakazaka and his cunt-sucking wife… they all looked wrong. They were out of place. Like a man stood in front of a blue screen. I don’t know how else to say it.

I hate them. All of them.

It’s the same everywhere I look now. All I see around me are things I don’t understand. They’re everywhere. They’re homeless people, businessmen, prostitutes, florists… everywhere. It doesn’t make any sense.

I hate them. I hate myself. I miss my mother and father.