Confession Letter

The tightness of this place is getting to me. No matter where I turn, somebody is trying to fix me. These walls did nothing but, scream at me to fix them. No matter what I do to be a better person, the other voice in my head foes not allow it.
Oh, what I would give to turn everything back to normal. If anybody knew what my thoughts entailed, I would never be looked at the same way.
No matter what good I attempt to do in life, I end up with a dead body in front of me. The more I try to be helpful, the more I attempt to fix things for others, I just make everything worse for them; for myself.
I did terrible things. No matter how much I want to be a good person and help others, everything bursts into flames. I can still remember the bodies laying in front of me. I can still smell the blood as it stained the floors red in front of me.
The longer I am here, the more I can feel myself becoming worse. The longer I am down here, the more stuffy the air becomes.
I search for the quiet every night with no avail. The screams fill my head, begging for me to let them out. After listening to them for so long, I font even feel myself anymore.
No matter the amount of good I did in the world, I always end up in a room covered in blood. Every day I wake up, the voices of the ones I stole fill my head with threats. They keep telling me I am always going to be with them. It was just a matter of time.
They are telling me to follow them. That they all had something to show me deep, within the darkness. The ones of the bodies I let fall to the floor.