Self Evisceration
I followed the procedure that I once read about in documented methods of POW torture during WWII. This was only one way to stop the pain in my head, one way to silence the voices, one way to rid humanity of the burden that is me.

Each cut followed the previous, only deeper, through the layers of muscle. I had to work slow so as to cauterize carefully due to the amount of blood that was flowing. I had to stay alive long enough to finish.

"You are nothing. No one cares. No one will miss you. Make her sorry. Come with us."

The voices spurred me onward.

I could now spread myself open and see inside. I used an old coathanger to help keep the skin apart so that I could easily reach inside. I reached into the warm, moist cavity of my soul, searching out the areas to cut out. Still there was little pain, but the tugging and pulling pressure from dissection felt really strange. I had put cotton in my nostrils to keep out the unbearable stench of burnt flesh. I didn't want to have to throw up while I was doing this. I might slip with the knife and die too soon.

I had siezed my intestine and had been pulling it out, looking for one end. This began to hurt more and I had to stop a couple of times. I found where it attached to the stomach and cut that end, again cauterizing at every slice, making sure I didn't lose too much blood. The feelings I was experiencing was like nothing I experienced before. A mixture of pain, and pleasure, driven by blind determination.

No one cares."

I sat this way for a few minutes, trying to catch my breath. I must have nicked the diaphragm because it was difficult to breathe. Severing the other end of the intestine, I flung it at the window. The owl coldly stares as it splats and slides to the floor in a heap.

I start feeling more pain near my back. As I look down, I realize that my stomach acid is dripping into the cavity and onto my spine. I can't take any more pain pills. This is where I will have to tough it out. It has been almost two hours now since I began. The keyboard is sticky from bloody fingerprints. the CD has played twice already. One more song until my favorite track comes on. I must time this right.

I reach inside of myself again and begin cutting out other organs. I work hurredly, as if cleaning a jack-o-lantern, letting some pieces fall, flinging others around the room. This time I don't use the soldering iron. I yank the cord from the wall. After all, I don't want the place to burn down. There are other tennants to consider. Kidneys, liver, bladder, all strewn about as if they had exploded from my body.

The cutting and ripping of entrails causes a lot of bleeding. My song begins playing. I feel my life finally slipping away. My eyes grow tired. My arms and legs grow cold. I make one last entry to the computer before I finally slip into unconciousness...

"No one cared except me. I loved you."
Part Two