As I get closer I also get tenser.

Checking one last time that I had prepared...

I quietly and slowly walk up to him, holding up a sharpened rock that was going to smash his head.

I smash his head with the rock, he screams, I kick his balls and cause him to cover his groin.

I smash his head over and over, he pushes me back. I stumble and then kick his head.

He seems to be panicked and bleeding. I attempt to hit his head again but he kicks his feet at me while still on the ground.

I throw my rock and other various rocks I had prepared beforehand; I like to be prepared.

After throwing said rocks I try to stomp on his head, he grabs my leg and tugs it.

I position myself to fall on him with my rock aimed to strike his head while guarding my groin.

We get into a scramble and he grabs my rock.

I aim for his balls and his eyes, trying to back away.

I miss, but I successfully get away.

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I grab more rocks and throw them.

He gets up and I try to punch his balls, he covers his hands on his balls, but I continue, hitting both his hand and maybe his balls.

I run.

After running away, I check my hands and body, my hands were sore, even though I had covered my hands with a section of my clothes. A few glancing blows had hit me, but other than that I was fine apart from bruises on my back.

I yell and scream, acting crazy and trying to scare the person.

He runs, but seems to have a concussion or something; I run at him and try to cut him instead of smacking him. I fail, only scraping his clothes.

I back up again, nervous and afraid, adrenaline still pumping.

I begin to find more rocks and throw them. Over and over.

And over.

And over.

And over.

After an hour of throwing my hardest, I was tired and could've expected a major pain in my arms in the morning.

He seemed to still breathe, so I decided to cut his throat, blood rushes out. I see the previous wounds scabbing and I find many bruises visible, his body was covered in red spots, in dirt, in gravel, and rocks surrounding him from the ones I thrown.

He groans and I repeat.

I break down and cry. Not because of sadness, but because of regret and anger. Regret at my actions and anger towards everything.

I sleep.