I would suck my thumb at night. That's how it started. A slow, gentle movement. A childhood habit that I'd never quite grown out of. No one saw it as anything but that; it was of minor concern.
And then, one night, my teeth sank into my skin, pressed gently against the most sensitive ring of my fingerprint. I felt alive. Something inside me ached, burned for more.
By the next week, I was gnawing on the remains of my elbow. By this point, it was of major concern. Not for me, though. I was having a great time. The tingling that lined my skin, the sparks that lit up my lungs, the butterflireworks that took over my body made it all worth it.
Months later, I was in pieces. Quite literally. My teeth were chiseled away. My legs were gone. My jaw was anything but defined. But my lust was aflame, and the heat of skin - of my skin - was insurmountable.
After that year, just a blob of half-eaten limbs, I became a problem to others. I was kicked out of school for being a distraction to the learning environment, mainly due to the sounds I made as I practiced "acting on orgasmic self-cannibalistic tendencies." Also the blood.
No one knew what to do with me. I got plastic legs. I got plastic arms. I got plastic molds for about every part of my body.
I ate those too.
And what was worse, it only made me want more.
They said I needed to stop. They said I was becoming a threat to society. They said I should be locked away, punished for the self-induced sins I craved so deeply. One day, they said, we'll teach you a lesson. But ever since I was kicked out of school, I hadn't had much taste for education.
I disregarded their words. And then, one day, just as they said, I was caught mid-shoulder. I gave them the cold shoulder, but they didn't want it. Only I did. That's the problem.
"Put your hands in the air!" they shouted at me, but I didn't have any hands. They back-cuffed me, but then I snacked on my spine. At the end, they just tossed me into a police car and drove me away. What else was there to do? Children saw me and screamed. Adults saw me and screamed. I saw me and screamed. Only my screams were of pleasure.
A night of negotiation later, the government decided I needed to be put away. I was of no need to society. I had no potential left. Only limbs. And I was running out of those, too.
The officers mumbled about law and order and revenge. Of getting back at the wretched thing I was.
By morning, I accepted defeat. There was no escape. This was my life. This was my life, and I ate it.
They put me in solitary confinement. I figured this was the best revenge.
