Fantasies. I'm sure everyone has them. Your wildest dreams which will have little chance to become reality. Unless you get pretty lucky, or so in my case. No, mine isn't about having sex with hot celebrities.

A few years back, when I was still in primary school, I've always a wild fantasy of getting brutally murdered. Yes, murdered. The thought of a gun being held right up to my head, the sound when the trigger was about to be pulled, the tensed moment that I knew I was going to die... It was wonderful. That was one of the first "murder-me" fantasies I had.

And then it progressed. I fantasized myself being shot by a masked serial killer, having several bullets shot at my body, the non-vital parts of my body. He was going to let me suffer to my death. The feeling of pain, the feeling when my body was rejecting the foreign objects punctured inside... I was in agony... I was in pain... But, I was happy.

Then I invited another murderer into my fantasy land. This one, holds a knife. He would stab me, he would then slowly pull out the knife, enjoying every second of my pain. My blood would be dripping, blood would be oozing out of my mouth. My killer would smile. He would direct the knife to my neck and slowly, carefully slice it open, appreciating the art by the law of gravity as my blood flows down the knife, along his hand, and finally drip down from his elbows.

Oh, how arousing, how sensational. There, my wildest fantasy. But please, don't murder me :)

~ Angelina