I hate him for what he did. How he made me feel. I can still taste his lips on mine when I smell cigarettes, or let my mind wander too much. I can still feel his hands on my chest, still see what he forced me to experience.

And the worst part of it, is he wasn't someone I considered important in my life. I would go to work, maybe make a joke with him occasionally, and leave. He wasn't always on my mind like he is now.

So if I could kill him, and no one would know, and no one would be mad at me, or ask me why I did it, I would kill him.

I would kill the man who made me feel like I'm not safe in a room full of people. The man who made me feel like I'm crawling in my own skin. Made me feel the urge to scrub my mouth until it was raw, and it physically hurt me to swallow, or breathe in. And the man who made me need to cover up all my skin to avoid getting flashbacks, keep my mind busy at all times so I don't have to keep reliving it.

I've always thought that I could never kill someone, but right now, if I was given the opportunity, I think I might actually do it because of the way he's making me feel.