All I wanted was a lazy Sunday, now I have to kill you! These were the words that echoed through my mind as I stumbled upon a gruesome scene in my living room. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. There, in front of me, lay the lifeless body of a stranger.

I had no idea who this person was or how they had gotten into my home, but one thing was certain: they were dead, and I was the only one around. The room was silent except for my heavy breathing and the sound of my racing pulse.

As I stood there, frozen in shock and fear, I heard a faint whisper in my ear. It was a voice that I didn't recognize, and yet it seemed to be coming from within me. It told me to do the unthinkable, to take a knife from the kitchen and finish the job.

At first, I tried to resist the voice, but it grew louder and more insistent, until I couldn't ignore it any longer. I stumbled towards the kitchen, my hands shaking as I picked up the knife. I knew what I had to do, but I couldn't believe that this was really happening.

As I approached the body, I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. The voice urged me on, telling me that this was the only way to be safe. I raised the knife, ready to strike, when suddenly the room began to spin.

My head felt like it was about to explode as I collapsed to the ground. The voice was gone, and I was left alone with the dead body. As I lay there, gasping for breath, I realized that I had been tricked. The voice had been a hallucination, a symptom of my own mental illness.

The horror of what I had almost done was too much to bear. I knew that I needed help, but I was too afraid to reach out. All I could do was lie there, trapped in my own mind, haunted by the memory of what I almost became.