{"submission_id":"1116032","keywords":[],"hidden":"t","scraps":"f","favorite":"f","favorites_count":"2","create_datetime":"2016-06-08 11:00:24.299949+02","create_datetime_usertime":"08 Jun 2016 11:00 CEST","last_file_update_datetime":"2017-11-06 00:21:29.199538+01","last_file_update_datetime_usertime":"06 Nov 2017 00:21 CET","username":"CubbyPuppy","user_id":"10460","user_icon_file_name":"96761_LinkDrako_image.gif","user_icon_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/large/96/96761_LinkDrako_image.gif","user_icon_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/medium/96/96761_LinkDrako_image.gif","user_icon_url_small":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/usericons/small/96/96761_LinkDrako_image.gif","file_name":"2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"300","thumb_huge_y":"300","thumb_large_x":"200","thumb_large_y":"200","thumb_medium_x":"120","thumb_medium_y":"120","files":[{"file_id":"2084718","file_name":"2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","file_url_full":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/full/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","file_url_screen":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/screen/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","file_url_preview":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/files/preview/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.rtf","mimetype":"text/rtf","submission_id":"1116032","user_id":"10460","submission_file_order":"0","full_size_x":null,"full_size_y":null,"screen_size_x":null,"screen_size_y":null,"preview_size_x":null,"preview_size_y":null,"initial_file_md5":"b8800809c23ecaadbcb709998057bd75","full_file_md5":"b8800809c23ecaadbcb709998057bd75","large_file_md5":"","small_file_md5":"","thumbnail_md5":"0779ec9907b38c6a9048ea66c4b41088","deleted":"f","create_datetime":"2017-11-06 00:21:29.199538+01","create_datetime_usertime":"06 Nov 2017 00:21 CET","thumbnail_url_huge":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/huge/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.jpg","thumbnail_url_large":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/large/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.jpg","thumbnail_url_medium":"https://nl.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/2084/2084718_LinkDrako_the_why.jpg","thumb_huge_x":"300","thumb_huge_y":"300","thumb_large_x":"200","thumb_large_y":"200","thumb_medium_x":"120","thumb_medium_y":"120"}],"pools":[],"description":"","description_bbcode_parsed":"","writing":"[i][u][b]\"The Why\" [/b][/u][/i]\n\nI wash my hands again, this makes the third time now. It still won't come off, and I can smell the iron in the air. I am in shock, I know I am, but I allow myself to be taken over by the feelings. I don't fight it, I know what I did, and I remember why. Why... That is the reason I am so calm now, the why was what led me to this place.. To this moment.. The why... Questions from all angles had arose before this moment, but the only one that sticks out in my mind is, \"Why?\", I think again and again.\n\nNo sound, just a dead silence. I can hear my heartbeat, and a small scurrying behind the wall, a mouse and nothing more, I concluded to myself. I walked out of the bathroom and back into the sitting room on the other side of the house. I sat down in a large armchair and it completely accepted me. I sunk down deep into his pillow like structure. I stared ahead at the pictures on the wall. Some were of children, a small tear crept down my cheek at the thought. Others were of natural scenes and busy streets. A photographer, I thought to myself, which was assured once I noticed the cameras on a shelf above one of the book cases in the far corner of the room.\n\nI should probably explain exactly who I am. My name is Jason Kornich, and I'm a student of pathology at Arizona State University. I am working on my bachelors, and am on my last stretch of the coursework. The house I am in doesn't belong to me, but rather, one of my professors. You see, he is dead in the room upstairs along with his wife. Why... The why... That is much more complicated...\n\nI was a good student. Diligent some would say, obsessed is the word others would use.. The professor of my Clinical Pathology course was one of the \"others\". He was very good at his job, and his course and lectures were some of the most engaging I had experienced, but... There was something else about him, something about the way he spoke to me... Looked at me... Thought about me... I could feel it.. His eyes looking right into my soul.. You might think that's superstitious, or even paranoid, but this man... He has a way about him..\n\nSo, the why, well... I will try my best... Not all of it seems real, and even more seems crazy.. But the blood on my hands and clothes tells me this is very real. Every time I try to imagine it.....\n\n\"NO!\". \"DO NOT delude yourself. You did this. Accept it. Remember how it felt? Slipping the knife into his gut and wrenching it from one side to the other, the wonderful red smile he made with his innards.?\"...\n\nI slam my head into a book that was sitting on the table next to me. I hit myself again and again and again. It's the only way to stop the voice. It persists at times, but pain makes it silent. It makes everything silent. Well, sometimes... Other times the voice is like a rock on my shoulders. No, more like a giant boulder, the world even. Perhaps that is why I always enjoyed the story of Atlas. Yes, I knew what I had done, and the voice persisted...\n\n\"Come now. You can't seriously believe that you can just get rid of me.. I AM YOU! I am everything you want to be... Why... Why.. WHY!...\", the voice pounds at my skull. \n\nI know what it wants, I know what it... Needs...\n\n\"Come now. COME COME COME! It's time to FINISH the gaME nOw...\", the voice is right of course. Without the end, there can be no winner after all. The game was still on with my professor. I needed to prove to him that I was the better scholar, the better pathologist. I needed him to know that I knew him better than he knew himself, because I am the better pathologist. Yes... I am the better pathologist.. The end can only come when I have finished my work.\n\n*The fledgling serial killer stands up and walks over to the door, putting a hand on the doors frame, and leaning against it staring away down the hall*\n\nYes, its time the game concluded.. Why did I do this? Why did I murder my professor and his lovely wife? Why do I allow the voice to control me?..... Why? WHY?\n\n\"WHY NOT!?!?\"\n\n[b] [i]\"The End\"[/i] [/b]","writing_bbcode_parsed":""The Why"

I wash my hands again, this makes the third time now. It still won't come off, and I can smell the iron in the air. I am in shock, I know I am, but I allow myself to be taken over by the feelings. I don't fight it, I know what I did, and I remember why. Why... That is the reason I am so calm now, the why was what led me to this place.. To this moment.. The why... Questions from all angles had arose before this moment, but the only one that sticks out in my mind is, "Why?", I think again and again.

No sound, just a dead silence. I can hear my heartbeat, and a small scurrying behind the wall, a mouse and nothing more, I concluded to myself. I walked out of the bathroom and back into the sitting room on the other side of the house. I sat down in a large armchair and it completely accepted me. I sunk down deep into his pillow like structure. I stared ahead at the pictures on the wall. Some were of children, a small tear crept down my cheek at the thought. Others were of natural scenes and busy streets. A photographer, I thought to myself, which was assured once I noticed the cameras on a shelf above one of the book cases in the far corner of the room.

I should probably explain exactly who I am. My name is Jason Kornich, and I'm a student of pathology at Arizona State University. I am working on my bachelors, and am on my last stretch of the coursework. The house I am in doesn't belong to me, but rather, one of my professors. You see, he is dead in the room upstairs along with his wife. Why... The why... That is much more complicated...

I was a good student. Diligent some would say, obsessed is the word others would use.. The professor of my Clinical Pathology course was one of the "others". He was very good at his job, and his course and lectures were some of the most engaging I had experienced, but... There was something else about him, something about the way he spoke to me... Looked at me... Thought about me... I could feel it.. His eyes looking right into my soul.. You might think that's superstitious, or even paranoid, but this man... He has a way about him..

So, the why, well... I will try my best... Not all of it seems real, and even more seems crazy.. But the blood on my hands and clothes tells me this is very real. Every time I try to imagine it.....

"NO!". "DO NOT delude yourself. You did this. Accept it. Remember how it felt? Slipping the knife into his gut and wrenching it from one side to the other, the wonderful red smile he made with his innards.?"...

I slam my head into a book that was sitting on the table next to me. I hit myself again and again and again. It's the only way to stop the voice. It persists at times, but pain makes it silent. It makes everything silent. Well, sometimes... Other times the voice is like a rock on my shoulders. No, more like a giant boulder, the world even. Perhaps that is why I always enjoyed the story of Atlas. Yes, I knew what I had done, and the voice persisted...

"Come now. You can't seriously believe that you can just get rid of me.. I AM YOU! I am everything you want to be... Why... Why.. WHY!...", the voice pounds at my skull.

I know what it wants, I know what it... Needs...

"Come now. COME COME COME! It's time to FINISH the gaME nOw...", the voice is right of course. Without the end, there can be no winner after all. The game was still on with my professor. I needed to prove to him that I was the better scholar, the better pathologist. I needed him to know that I knew him better than he knew himself, because I am the better pathologist. Yes... I am the better pathologist.. The end can only come when I have finished my work.

*The fledgling serial killer stands up and walks over to the door, putting a hand on the doors frame, and leaning against it staring away down the hall*

Yes, its time the game concluded.. Why did I do this? Why did I murder my professor and his lovely wife? Why do I allow the voice to control me?..... Why? WHY?

"WHY NOT!?!?"

"The End" ","pools_count":0,"title":"Short Story \"The Why\"","deleted":"f","public":"t","mimetype":"text/rtf","pagecount":"1","rating_id":"2","rating_name":"Adult","ratings":[{"content_tag_id":"3","name":"Violence","description":"Mild violence","rating_id":"1"},{"content_tag_id":"5","name":"Strong Violence","description":"Strong violence, blood, serious injury or death","rating_id":"2"}],"submission_type_id":"12","type_name":"Writing - Document","guest_block":"t","friends_only":"f","comments_count":"1","views":"49","sales_description":null,"forsale":"f","digitalsales":"f","printsales":"f","digital_price":""}