Plot hole

sat in the chair but couldn’t feel it. My legs slid across the floor, and my hands lay helplessly on the table. The room was silent, but for me, it was deafening. I could only hear my own breath, which became heavier, as if I couldn’t breathe enough air. My eyes scanned the monitor screen, and I saw the same words I had read hundreds of times. Murder, investigation, testimony. It all had become empty and meaningless. I tried to concentrate, but the thoughts wouldn’t stop. Something was wrong. It was impossible to tell where reality ended and where... everything else began. This is it. I couldn’t hold on anymore. I started to feel my fingers twitch, as if from cold, and then with each twitch, it got worse. I grabbed a coffee cup, but it was too heavy, and my hand trembled, unable to hold it. I suddenly realized that my fingers couldn’t hold anything. I dropped the cup, and it crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. The shards became part of this world. This world where I could no longer be normal. Where everything was falling apart like a broken toy. At first, I didn’t understand what I was doing. But in a moment, it became clear. I stood up, but my legs didn’t obey me. I walked to the table, but not to work. No. I swung my hand and knocked the papers off the table. They flew into the air like confetti. Pieces of documents scattered across the floor, and I stood in the middle of this chaos, not knowing what to do with myself. My body began to heat up, blood pulsed in my temples, and I felt anger slowly, like poison, seep into me. I walked to the window, tearing off my jacket, not thinking about what I was doing. I ripped off my tie, feeling the fabric tear in my hands, as if I were tearing myself apart. I was horrified by this feeling. I couldn’t cope with it. I couldn’t stop this flow. What if I couldn’t come back? I went to the computer and forcefully threw it on the floor. The screen shattered with a loud crack, like water splashing against a rock. Everything I knew was now in pieces. With each second, it got worse. My vision lost focus more and more. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It was as if the walls were closing in, and I was in a cage with no way out. I heard footsteps. Alexey. His presence was heavy. I could no longer tolerate his gaze, his questions, his attempts to help. He was part of that world I could no longer perceive. I turned and saw him in the doorway. He stood there, his eyes full of concern. But his concern irritated me. — Are you okay? — he asked, approaching me. I couldn’t answer. My words drowned somewhere in my mind. All I could do was growl and look at him like he was a stranger. He came closer, and something inside me tore. I could no longer control myself. I grabbed him by the shirt and effortlessly threw him against the wall. He hit it with a dull thud. I saw his face contort with pain and fear, but I no longer felt it. Other people’s pain was part of what I wanted. I wanted his fear to become mine. I wanted his weakness to be my justification. He tried to get up, but I stepped toward him. I pulled out the knife that had been lying on the table. He still didn’t understand what was happening. But I was already ready. — Stop, — he said, but his voice drowned in the fog that enveloped me. He didn’t understand. He would never understand. I swung the knife through the air, feeling my hand tremble. I was one step away from striking, and then I felt my blood boil in my veins. His face was too close, his eyes too full of terror. I plunged the knife into his stomach with such force that I felt it tear through the flesh, as if I were ripping it apart. He collapsed to the floor, letting out some unnatural sound, his hands desperately clenching into fists, trying to catch the air. I struck again. I felt his stomach tear open, his insides slipping out of his body. All of this happened slowly, but I couldn’t stop. I kept going, despite his screams and gasps. Everything around me turned into a bright red stain, like red paint spreading across a canvas. Blood splattered on the walls, smearing with every movement I made. I yanked the knife out, his body hadn’t yet fallen to the floor. Everything in him was torn, foreign, broken. His eyes no longer looked at me.