The slender figure stepped into the room in a silent nature. Like a slithering shadow that moved from room to room gathering materials and the new journal. The figure would sit on the pile of pillows, opening the journal to write. Silence covering the room in a calm mantle. 

"One is done. Five is alive. Seven is in Heaven.

A journal is said to help with thoughts. Cleaning and pouring thoughts into a sheet of paper that will likely help reminiscence or relive past traumas or troubles. It brings me to question if I am troubled by something?  Are we all? Hathian surely seems to bring troubled thoughts to each. Every person I have met has one, two or more troubled thoughts or things that are bothering them. Danger, threats, people getting hurt. I have heard confessions. People have sat by me, a stranger, to confess things. Affairs. A woman sleeping with another man who was not her boyfriend and she had no regrets yet felt she should and that was troubling her. If it was not making her feel guilty, why seek guilt? 

I've been having questions in my mind in the last few days. I remember having a conversation with Ginger, a friend. She urged to hurt and kill. I found no discomfort in hearing this. It makes her what she is, who she is. The cards would only tell her to go back if she were to drift away from it.

Would I kill? Wouldn't I? I don't believe I would. The interest is there. An interest to hurt, but it's more in a sadism way. I do not want to kill. There is a difference between bringing a person to pain and simply killing them. Killing leaves nothing but a carcass and I have no interest in a carcass. Cannibals eat the carcass. Perhaps if it brought the circumstance where Ginger was present, a carcass would be useful.

Would I feel guilt if I killed? Perhaps. Socially it is already established killing is wrong. My mind would already focus on perceiving it as such, but would there be regret? I believe not. No. There wouldn't. 

It doesn't make me bad. It's an urge I need to attend. A scratching in my mind that won't cease and it is slowly getting louder. The girl in the comic book store was a good target, but she managed to escape. I was aiming to kill her, because Ginger was there. She needs carcasses. I trust we'll soon talk about all of this. It might have been sudden for me to express aggressive behavior when I am usually calm. Was it aggressive? I fail to identify whether people are uncomfortable or not. It has always been difficult and I don't really have an interest on learning. I can't change that and I don't want to.

I need chamomile."

The journal would be closed with a sigh and put away under the mattress to keep it hidden in his shack.