It’s six AM. I can’t remember how I got here. There’s a gash across the left side of my face and bags under my eyes. I felt like I haven’t slept in weeks. I’m in an old run down apartment somewhere in the city. I’m lying in the wreckage of an old coffee table. It smells like death in the room.

            As I raise myself from the splinters of the table I notice blood on my hands. There’s a slow dripping noise from somewhere in the adjoining room. I slowly stagger into the kitchen and the first thing I notice is a pool of red next to the fridge. It smells like death in the room.

            I walk past and head back into the bedroom because somehow I already know what’s hidden inside the fridge. That knowledge frightens me. The mirror in the bedroom is shattered to pieces and there is an odd shape hidden underneath the tangled sheets that are stained crimson. It smells like death in here.

            I walk over the strange shape and head over to the dresser. I find a picture of a happy smiling family and it sickens me. My vision goes red. It smells like death in here.

            As my vision clears the frame is mangled and twisted and the picture is nothing but a pile of crimson soaked strips. I look down and my hands are shredded so that new blood is mixing with the blood that was already present. I ignore it and walk into a child’s bedroom. It smells like death.

            The child’s bed is in a heap on the floor. A teddy bear with “I LOVE DADDY” on the front has the stuffing torn out of it. The bear is the same shade of read as the shapes in the corner holding clinging to one another in frozen horror. They mean nothing to me. Just remnants of a hated past. I take the bear and leave. It smells like death in here.

            I kick a knife that was lying in the way and head to the window. I move the drapes out of the way and look out the window. The dawn is still a cold gray. There’s no movement below. The earth created a stark contrast to the horror of the room he stood in. Tears flood his eyes as he clutches the teddy bear to his stained shirt. It smells like death in here.

            As the gray gives way to the dawn the world is painted crimson. The horrors of the room are hidden by there terrible camouflage as the light seeps through the glass. As the last vestiges of night are wiped away the silence of the dawn is shattered by the blaring of the sirens. I drop to the ground and weep as the sound grows closer and the truth hits me.

            I smell like death in here.