Literally.

I wrote something that actually frightened me.  Where the heck did it come from?  What deep dark place could I have drawn from to write something so perverse?  Is it some form of my self conscious?  GOD, I hope not.  Is it years of watching scary movies and the numb in the face of violence shown daily through the media?  This I hope is the case.

The story is unlike anything I thought myself capable of.  Albeit a story, it's the type that if someone read it, especially in this day and age, they would probably question my sanity as well report me to the nearest policeman.  I would never post it, ever.  I should probably delete it from my collection, but I won't if only to remind myself of it's horror.

Why?

I want to remember that it is not really a place I want to be in mentally.
Remember that GOD gave us the freewill to not act on our most debase of thoughts.
That nothing and no one has the right to make me feel or think that way.
It is not a message I want to send into the world lest it revisit me 3 fold.
I would not want a child to see it, especially mine.
It may hold deeper meanings through the imagery that I need to understand constructively.
Maybe it's time for me to make a decision about ending or starting something.
Figure out what I may be denying myself as it manifests it way through me.
Have I failed somewhere that I need to atone for?
Because fiction is just fiction, no matter how strange, and I wrote it on my own.

I know that some of the stories on here are fiction and are at times explicit, I'm not saying it's not okay.  I'm just saying it's not okay for me.  Well that's it.  I think I've managed to help relieve some of this guilt I have been feeling since typing it.

~Tet~