Chapter I

I am beyond good and evil. There are no reasons behind my actions because what I do needs no justification, my heart is stone cold and all what I wish for is to inflict pain upon others. 

Back in the day when I was young, my parents were killed in a car accident and I was kept in an orphanage. I was the smallest and the weakest of them, it was an all-boys orphanage. Since I was the new fish in the pound I was pushed around and beaten up by bigger, rougher fishes. Why you may ask? Because the orphanage barely had any money and that means more of the limited food supply has to be shared amongst the many starving mouths.
There were two ways to survive: You either take out all your inner angst on the weaker species or you dwelled away and hid in your own shadows.

I hid well, just not well enough because one day I got ganged up by elder boys and they pushed me down the stairs. All I could remember was slowly descending down steps, not feeling my own weight as I was floating mid-air before plunging the back of my head to the freezing cold ground and then I blacked out. I did not have an idea of what happened afterwards but when I woke up at the hospital bed I was shocked to see my body filled with blatantly blaring magenta and maroon-ish red bruises all around along with a few broken ribs here and there. Whenever I inhaled it felt like an unbearable stab to my chest from the popping sound of the fractured ribcage, a gush of pain usually followed.

I knew when I woke up I was not the same person anymore. Rage flowed in my blood stream and my mind was allured by the lust of evil.

A month passed and I was getting physically better due to the fact that the rehabilitation the hospital offered proved beneficial and the doctor said that I was way past schedule in my treatment so it was positive news for me. I liked my doctor, she was nice to me and made my ego feel good. She looked like she was in her mid thirties. Her hair was between straight and curly hair; very wavy. Her hair started straight but towards the end it curled around, as the auburn locks ended right above her shoulder. She had a small peachy face and a gloomy smile, I noticed sorrow in her hazel eyes. She was a mystery. Her olive cheeks were puffy, as if she was crying right before she diagnosed my improvement. I think she was recently divorced, there is a circle of paleness on her finger where the ring used to be.

But beyond that, I was bored out of my mind. I always was. I either slept my way out of boredom or teased incoming nurses just to see them get irritated but they would never take my seriously considering my age. I could be the rudest, most improper and spiteful creature and not one nurse would give me the response I wanted. I would mock their appearance and the way they spoke but all they returned were proper plastic smiles without uttering a word. I called them ugly and described their looks as if they came out of a sewer but that lead to nothing so I gave it up.

I, myself, was not a big fan of the room I was assigned to in the hospital, I had to share it with an old grump that had a cough resonating to the sound of a shot gun blasting, I wish I could suffocate him with all the wires he had around him.
I was looking at him with eyes pierced in disgust, studying the way his face appeared in utter distaste. There lied a grotesque, old and ragged fool that thought he had a chance of living. He was deluded, old people die and his case was not any special. Yellow with almost rotten teeth oozed out a terrible deathly scent, my bed was placed at the opposite side of the elder dying man and I could still smell his bitter odor. Like an aging tomb ridden with locusts and a rotten corpse, he looked unpleasant. He had messy and unkempt oily strands of dull grey hairs slicked to one side. 
My eyes began to notice his unbearably thin yet feeble arms which barely moved probably because they gave up functioning. He was slowly dying and I wish the process sped up. He was nothing but a rotten mould of foulness. Nobody visited him and nobody cared about him, hence He was a nobody.

Night fell and my eyes woke up in the middle of the night, the sky barely glittered silky dotted stars because of faint city lights and everything was too quiet. I could hear my heavy musky breathing thanks to the inflamed lungs buried under my broken ribs. I saw the old man sleeping amidst the darkness because the window was not covered with the curtains to block the city's emit of lights. All the old fellow had done, besides not dying, is snoring a truck's horn in a still night. I pleaded to myself internally hoping he should choke and exit this world, one less defecating piece of rotten meat to think about.

But strangely enough I believed in ghosts. Floating pale white translucent spirits wandering around. I dreamt of being a ghost. I dreamt of meeting other ghosts. I spoke with the spirits in my dream, they told me to not harm anyone but all I wanted to do is haunt the living hell out of the people that jailed me into this hospital.

My eyes fixated at the washed-up yellowish pale tiles, I drowned in the sea of my perspectives. Jumping from one idea to another yet frequent interludes of imagination distracted me off my thoughts.

Author's Note

What do you think? Comment below!

Reviews

[Gloomsjune]

I feel this is very well thought out. My problem is with the title. I do not believe a sociopath cares about good and evil or what anyone thinks about why they are the way they are.
i think you should be vague and let the reader come to his own conclusion.

[Srchaud]

If you got rid of the first paragraph It would be great. Its too forced of an intro and you do not need it as you get into the persons thoughts very quickly. This has the added benifit of not lettign the ready know what this man thinks of himself. We are all the heros of our own story, so to this person all his rage, hate and discust should be justified, by his reasons alone.
The first paragrah robs us of that process and you tell us how he feels about himself. So instead of me reading about the shotgun blast snoring as damn right that old guy is annoying, I read it as the MC is messed up, so everything is going to be off.
Bottom line the MC is more intereting if we do not know how they view themselves, this allows us to make that choice instead.

[Newt]

There are a couple of grammatical errors here and there but nothing too bad. The story has potential but it's hard to tell where you're wanting to go with it, which isn't always a bad thing. Personally, I find some of it to be a little long-winded though but for the character that you're building up in this story it works so there's nothing wrong with it.

[Richard Klpatric]

It has alot of emotional details. You should hook the reader that you have written. We need to be feeling, tasting, smelling, and seeing what you want us to feel. Your story has quite a bit going for it.