Before I start I would like to say that this is a 3 page essay for school. So be vigilant like a teacher if you ARE gonna critisise. I was going to call it voices, but I thought that was a bit cliche

The whiskey burnt my throat as it crawled down my esophagus, it numbs my mouth, as well as the voices. Although it's only a temporary solution, it still helps. I sipped from my glass, only to be alerted by the taste of blood in my mouth, and as I looked at my glass I saw it overflowing with the scarlet red blood. I threw it against the wall in terror, but blood didn't ooze down the wall... oh no... nothing was on the wall except scotch. "You can't kill me David."
"I can, and will"

About an hour later I walked out of he bar, the cold street air nipped the back of my neck. The smell of the overflowing sewage filled the air, which burnt my nostrils. I always hated this place... cold, smelly and disgusting. Although tonight the aroma of dried blood and rotten flesh filled the already musty air. Made a change from the usual smell of pee. The luring voices tell me to do things. I walked down the dark street, with the sound of the rusty gates of the abbandoned buildings, hitting each other under the influence of the wind.

I felt as if I was being followed, although with frequent checking, nobody was stalking me. Maybe it was the voices, I thought. They can manipulate me, as if I were putty in their hands.

Although the voices were troubling, it didn't stop me living my life... much. They tell me what to do. If I disobey they punish me. Their punishments are very harsh, but I can bare it, if it means that someone is saved. I've never told a doctor about the voices, in fact I've never told anyone. I'm afraid that they would lock me up, disabling me from ever getting rid of my hindrances.

The town clock tolled 11PM, and for some reason, sent shivers down mt spine. It amazed me at how many people are still walking around so late, on a night as gloomy as this. Especially since there is a serial killer on the loose. They call him the voodoo man, because all his victims seem to have been killed by ritual. My voices tell me to kill all the time, could I be the serial killer? I'm sure I would remember. "You killed those people, David, not us, you!"
"Shut up!"
"You'll be caught"
"I DIDN'T DO IT!", everyone stared, as if i said it aloud. I rushed off down the street, so as not to shame myself further.

Down the dark, unilluminated street I felt watched again, even though I heard no footsteps besides my own. I saw something glisten in the moonlight, which was dim, thanks to the clouds. Upon closer inspection I realised it was a gun. "Take it, David. You know you want it, think how many people you could kill for us."
"I don't want to kill." But as soon as those words slipped out of my mouth, I felt the cold steel slip into my pocket, and doing that I felt happy. I'm sure I can control myself.

Someone walked by, who looked familiar. I decided to follow, or at least I think I decided. "Follow him, David, he will kill you if you don't.", although I resisted, I felt my legs following, as if they were possessed. The calm night made this walk eerie, although I knew nothing would happen. But that didn't stop the cold sweat flooding my pores. The only sound in the air was the sound of my shoes clicking on the cold, damp streets. "Kill him, David! Murder him!!"
"NO!", I must've said it aloud again, he began to walk faster. Does he know I'm following, does he know I have no ill intentions? I'm starting to question his reality, maybe he isn't real... a real person wouldn't be out so late. He's tall like my father, who I hate. His shoulder length hair, his thuggish tattoos... a spitting image. Are the voices doing it? If they can make me pick up a gun, or follow a person, then they can certainly make me think someone looks like someone else.

He started to run, and David caught up. He was like a greyhound, chasing an unfortunate hare, the unfortunate hare being an unfortunate person. He turned down an alley, a left, a right... a dead end. He turned around to see his executioner. The grey metal shone in the twilight. "Who are you?
with a blank expression David answered, "It has to end." He stepped closer, with the victim hugging the wall, as if he was a suckling pig, latching on to it's mother. "Kill him, David, or he'll kill you" They shouted
"Please, Sir, don't do it! I have money, do you want money?" He pleaded
"It HAS to end!"

A shot echoed accross the street, as a body hit the floor.

You used the word pee which sounds incredibly juvenile. Try piss or urine.

Also you completely changed voices from the first to third person in the last paragraph. If that was intentional it shouldn't have been. That much of a shift in a story so short only presents the author as incompetent.

I also noticed a couple of simple grammatical errors, including several superfluous commas. If this is an assignment you may want to double check your grammar.

Thanks for the critisism. But the shift in perspective Was intentional, and we were supposed to do that in our homework.

Then you might want to make that smoother.

How?<