William: [standing in front of the group] I'm spreading deviled ham onto a roll when my father comes in and asks me how are things going at school. I say "fine", he says "fine" isn't very descriptive. I say "how are things" isn't very explicit. He tells me not to be smart with him, and I thrust the knife into his throat. Only it's not sharp, so it barely pierces his skin. Holding his throat, gulping for air, the look of shock in his eyes only lasts for a second, then it's anger. He says something, I think it's "what are you doing", but I can't be sure, so I drive the knife again. This time into his stomach. It penetrates, he falls to the ground, I straddle his body and I start digging into the area beneath his rib cage. I just go. After a while he stops struggling, and I'm too tired to continue. His entire abdominal area looks like a gaping bloody hole.
