Story Typing Two

Even though the straitjacket was off he still felt a certain restrain. He was standing outside of the mental hospital not knowing where to turn next, what his next move should be. They told him he was free, but he didn't feel any of this freedom they spoke of. Free to do what exactly? Until now he had someone who told him to what and when and he was supposed to take that into the outside world. He had been released because he knew when to laugh, when not to laugh, when to smile and how to talk. He was free because he knew how to restrain himself. Even though he knew all that, how to behave like a normal person he felt so lost. He barely remember the life before the time in the mental hospital, but he remember how different he was. That one murder he once did had filled him with so much. He remembered a strong negative feeling that made his body behave like a chased chicken. He remembered tears flowing down from his cheeks. Could he feel that again? He felt empty. Nothing filled him anymore. He had been told how to behave and he knew it like a textbook. There was nothing more to it. His laugh was without feelings, he knew why he was laughing, because something apparently was funny, but there was nothing more to it. Just because someone says it's funny doesn't make it funny. And why did someone laugh when something was funny? It was all just empty. Hollow. He remembered thise strong feelings he had before and even though they were negative they still filled him with something. Back then he wasn't empty. Back then he was complete, not lost, but with a goal in mind. He wanted to feel again. He wanted that feeling to fill him again, but murder was something they told him he couldn't do. That was not what a normal person would do... but he wasn't a normal person. A normal person was filled with feelings and emotions that told them how to respond to certain things. All he had was an empty feeling and a voice who told him how to respond to certain things. He wasn't a normal person at all. So what did it matter? All he wanted to do was feel again.
- Well, I'll just have to do it in secret then.
He mumbled to himself and then took his first step out in the real world. Left without nothing, but a goal in mind, a desire in sight. Holding on to it with a tight grip since it was his only chance to feel anything again. Even if it was negative, he just wanted those feelings to fill him once again. To fill this empty space in his entire body. To complete him.