Insanity: A Short Story

Within every individual lies a form of insanity. Be it small or large, visible or invisible. Without it, humans are unable to function. It is what drives our passion to live. You could say that it is what had drove me to be in the position I am today. If I had not done this act, for which some may call an act of insanity, I would not be able to sleep at night. Albeit, I did feel a lump of guilt build up after the so called 'unfortunate death' as it was plastered within the papers. However, I placidly resumed my daily life, fearing not the consequences, for the murder had been swift and well dealt with.

It was upon the second evening of a windy night within November; a serene night, nonetheless. I had intended to go about the night, not wanting

It was perhaps the one time in my life for which I had indubitably felt happy. Without her, I would have been driven to a point of insanity from which there is no return. To this day, I can recall her blue as the sky eyes. Her face so bright, one could go blind by staring at its beauty. She had a slim figure, and hair that flowed as naturally as a waterfall empties into a stream. Hitherto, I could not confess how I had truly felt about her, for how could someone like her ever even notice me? I had been one of those kids who had always sat in the back of class, not wanting to be noticed. Not wanting to draw attention to myself in fear of talking. Everyday I saw her walk past me like the fastest car in the world on a race track, but somehow it was still losing. And yet everyday, she would ignore me like I was some pesky fly she could not be bothered

There was no other rational thought within my head. The years flew by as quickly as a plane, racing towards its destination. And, in the end, our paths never collided. The countless nights which I had spent without sleeping was in vain. The possibility of us one day meeting, and thus eventually getting together, was a false hope promised by my ignorance. One may ask as to what finally drove me to doing this “heinous crime” as was perceived by the entirety of the town, for which I do not have an answer. I walked through the town, graciously glaring at the scintillating city that was New York. “The City That Never Sleeps”. I always had chuckled at that name. It was chosen to symbolize the energy which flowed through the city, never once hinting to the terrible lives of its citizens. The murders, the rapes, the injustices were all committed due to a lack of Providence. However, I must confess that I had never once had an epiphany, nor any divine feeling which could have led me to different path. Nonetheless, I still do not regret the action which I took, for what is a life worth living if it is only brimmed with