The Sadist

• Jonathan Paul, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2009

The Sadist


The sharp pain in my head was unbearable, the throbbing was continuous and worst of all the shaking would not stop. I stood there scared, my hands were cold, and the blood was starting to dry in a crisp manner all over my hands. The wind blowing from the western end of the ally was sharp and brisk. I tried to take a pace to move off, but the guilt in my bones overpowered any sense of movement. I bent down and took one last look at the old homeless man’s body and then placed a maple leaf on his chest. With that I slipped on my crocheted gloves and was off, the knife still in my back pocket.


I arrived home fifteen minutes later. My simple little home once felt like a lot to me, but after tonight, nothing felt worth living for. I sat down in my small little vinyl chair, still shaking profusely. My eyes started to flicker, it was then that I knew, I had problems, I could feel it deep down. So why was it that I had a burning desire to go out and do it all again. Was it because I am referred to as a westie, was it because I had nothing to live for, or was it because I really enjoyed what I had just done. Firstly I had to wash. I made my way to the bathroom, my bones quivering uncontrollably. I started to wash the blood off my hands, scrubbing and scrubbing, but from the little light I had in my once humble abode I could still see traces of blood. Could this be because I use cheap soaps or is it because I am a cold blooded sadist?


That was it, I had to go and harm someone. I was itching with rage, I was scared and I was confused. So with that I left my house in anger, slamming the door behind me. I looked left and right and what I saw gave me a buzz, a young child standing on the corner alone. I moved towards her being careful not to grab too much attention. Before I knew it I was standing upright, with my shadow lurching over her small innocent body. I stood there for a few seconds, in the dead of night before I made my move. I raised my hand to smack the girl, but before I knew it I heard the words “Police, don’t move.” It was then when I looked up to the stars that I knew what I had done was wrong.