• “I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy.” I said over and over again, knowing that the white suits wouldn’t listen. They think if you say your not crazy you are, but me, I’m not.
    My name is James, I am 27 years old and I have been accused of brutally murdering 7 people, I didn’t do it, I didn’t… they said I ripped their limbs off using a normal buzz saw, and then they said I threw the limbs in a wood-chipper. I didn’t do it, I didn’t, and I’m not crazy.
    “ Persistent, but saying your not crazy won’t be enough to get you outa here.” The inspector told me. His hair was hidden by a small kind of bowler hat… Ha! A suit, seems kind of cliché to me.
    “Tell me sir.” I say as I look up to his face, and give him a polite grin. “Have you ever been prosecuted for a crime only you know you didn’t commit?” He seemed stranded there frozen in a blank stare, and after a while I got tired of it and kept going. “So you haven’t. Well then, why are you talking to me about this?” Still no answer, I’m starting to get irritated, why am I even here? I thought, knowing I might not be going home today. I look around waiting for something to happen, then on queue a man in a white lab coat came tough the only door to room and handed the inspector some papers. His was in shock, looked at me and gave a nervous smile.
    “Well” He said. “It turns out that the finger prints…weren’t yours. Heh heh our bad, your free to go.
    “How often does this happen sir?” I ask.
    “What?”
    “Never mind. I like to be free though.” Motioning to my handcuffs.
    “Oh yes!” He takes out a key, and quickly unlocks the cuffs. I get up and rub my wrist because those thing hurt after awhile!
    “Thank you.” I say as I walk out the cold, white room. I leave the white suit’s place, and just stand in the sun for at least 10 minutes, just standing there. Rage is filling up inside me, I look around and hail a cab to take me home.
    As I reach my home I unlock the door and enter, then go to my large leather chair and drop into it. Am I crazy? I think. Maybe I am…or maybe I should be. I begin to get a large grin on my face excitement is welling up. I quickly get out of my chair and then run to my garage and grab my cordless saw, and my small portable wood chipper. My body is filling with more and more excitement I can’t stop smiling. I am crazy. I think loudly. I am crazy. I am crazy. I am crazy!!!!
    I walk over to a neighbors house where they are having a party and knock on the large, dark, oak door. Soon a short, stout man opens the door.
    “What do you want?” he ask rudely.
    “Nothing much.” I say calmly. “just the blood of every one here!” I scream and I literally pounce on the man, my buzz saw whirring, I press it slowly on his right arm. As he screams, I laugh… his blood, it flew everywhere, it looked like someone tripped with a bucket of red paint. As soon as I got most of the though the arm I set the saw on the ground and begin to pull on his arm and then… RIIIIIIIIP, the sound of the screams with the sound of his arm ripping off his body, it was…amazing!
    The rest of the part members finally show up, six of them.
    “Now this is a party!” I yell still covered in blood I jump up and start to swing my saw wildly at the remaining partygoers, smiling, and laughing insanely. I cut though the first’s chest his blood flying up into the air and slowly falling to the ground, the second’s stomach and third’s chest, then the fourth, fifth, sixth. As soon as I know they are grounded, I begin the process of sawing their arms and legs off, with screaming and ripping, my smile is getting bigger.
    I start to hear crying, its one of the guest with her stomach open, I slowly walk over to her.
    “Why are you crying?” I asked, no answer. “Stop that! Its starting to piss me off!” I yell to her and then, in rage, I thrust my saw towards her face, holding it there till the screaming and crying stopped. I lift the weapon up to see there is nothing left of her face, just a mangled mess of bone, flesh, and blood.
    By this time I have finished the limbs and I carried the mass of body parts to my wood chipper, and tossed them in. I stand in front of the nozzle where every thing will be flying out. I can feel the bones, and the muscles landing on my skin…it feels…invigorating.
    There’s only one more person to kill, me. I take a knife and carve this into my arm: I am crazy I am crazy I am crazy I am crazy. Then I take the knife and plunge it into my heart, for here I wait for death to settle in.




    I am crazy…