The first time was the easiest....but the worst. The fear that was around me, in me, was overwhelming. The rush, the suffocation, everytime i took in a breath fear would just reach in behind it and snatch it back out. It was like watching yourself do something you would never think you were capable of, not an outer-body-experience but stuck inside yourself and looking out your eyes like windows. His name was Hamilton...Hemlock Hamilton from New York city. He tried to kill me for my backpack with all my supplies inside....i only had enough to last my dog and i a day or two at most. I couldn't let him have it. He attacked me from the right, hitting me with a suckerpunch, i almost blacked out but i suddenly snapped back. I threw my body into him and slammed him into the wall, we struggled but i gained the upperhand and i....i wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed as hard as i could....it was probably only a couple of minutes but it felt like years i was holding him on that floor, choking the life out of him. I'll never forget the look in his eyes when he truly realized he was going to die....the life in him drained and i loosened my grip....i stood up, wrote this, left it with him and left. I'm sorry Hemlock I wished you would have just asked me...
