Lying Minds

You can never trust anyone you meet. You don't know their past, or their future. And our minds can lie to us about it. It can tell you otherwise about them. But it will never be true.
When I was a kid, my family moved a lot. My dad was always getting new jobs. But when I was eleven or twelve, There was this one person I was friends with. His name was strange. It took me a little while to remember it, but it was Blair.
By the way the name sounds, it sounds like a girl. Nope. His parents must have been drunk or something while thinking of the name. But Blair was a strange kid. Always seemed to be mischievous. Creepy, kind of. He would always stay in the shadows.
I never really knew him until about two months into the school year. I was coming back from school when I walked passed an alleyway. I noticed a kid sitting by the wall. I was there for too long, and eventually the kid noticed me. We just had a long stare for a few minutes, and he ran off. I disregarded it, and walked away.
I noticed the same kid in school the next day. He obviously recognized me, and we started to become friends. But I never questioned him about why he was in the alleyway. Until about four months later.
We were coming back from school when Blair had asked me if I wanted to do something, "fun."
I was a little creeped out by the way he said it, but I said yes. Blair told me to follow him, and as usual, I did. We went behind an alleyway and told me to wait there. He left the alleyway, but when he turned the corner, he gave me a thumbs up to tell I was still there. After about a minute or two, I heard a scream.
Blair came back around the corner with his hoodie on, and he had a woman with a bag over her head. She was struggling to fight, but Blair was too powerful for her. After struggling for a long time, she went limp.
"She's knocked out. I'll get the tools." He told me.
I was still in shock at what I just saw. But that was nothing. There was more. Blair brought out a box of knives. Bread knives, butter knives, butcher knives, just knives all over the box. One thing that disturbed me about the box is that the knives had blood all over them. Some of it looked fresh, maybe a day old. It trickled all over the box. Dripping on Blair's hand. He grabbed two butcher knives and waited for the lady to wake up. I backed up a little, not really wanting to watch it.
After 6 minutes, the woman woke up. Blair pulled off the bag, and stared at the woman with an innocently creepy smile.
"Good morning." He said.
"You're surgery is scheduled today, you probably shouldn't be awake for this."
Right as he said that, he stabbed the woman right in the chest. Her face was a twist of shock, pain, and pure fright. She screamed at the top of her lungs when Blair swiped up the knife while stilled plunged into her. Blood covered Blair's face and hands. His face though, showed pure joy.
He plunged the knife into her again, deeper this time, and just swiped the knife everywhere. After a while, he made a gaping hole in her chest of blood and guts. The red liquid dripped down her leg. And there were guts around her. And somehow, she was still alive. He took his hand, and shoved it into the hole. Causing her to scream. He pulled out his hand, holding her intestines. She let out one more scream of pain, and she went limp. Her eyes still open. Blood dripping from her mouth as her dead, soulless eyes stared at me.
Blair leaned in and whispered, "Everything you saw is fake. Your mind is lying to you. Remember that." Blair looked at me with a wicked smile, and I just walked away.
About 2 Months later, we moved again. After we got everything packed, I sat in the passenger seat and looked out into the woods by our house. I could see there, in broad daylight, Blair. Standing there with the same two bloody butcher knives he used to kill the woman. He had the same smile he had when he looked at me after she died.
Ever since then, I've been trying to find out what Blair meant by, "Our minds can, and will lie to us." I've been studying psychiatry in college for a few years now, and I think I may have it.
Blair was not who he said he was. He looked like an innocent twelve year-old. But in reality, he was a cold blooded killer. Craving blood and murder. And it turns out, at one point he was on the FBI's Most Wanted list. When he was nine.
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
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