I won’t tell you my name but you need to know that I did something horrible. I won’t elaborate because it’s as simple to understand as human behavior. I won’t say things like : “It’s not my fault”, “I didn’t mean it”, “I didn’t do anything wrong”
THIS IS WHAT I WANTED TO DO. THAT’S WHAT THIS SIN AND GUILT OF MINE IS.
I’m an ordinary teenager. I’m not even 20 years old yet and probably half of my life now will be spent cut off from any society.
Now you will probably ask - Why?
Forgive me for my answer but…
I don’t know how to respond. I just don’t f*cking know.
I did it because I wanted to. I did it because I felt I could do that. I’ve felt that way for as long as I can remember. Even when I was a kid, more than once my parents took me to psychologists, therapists, hah, I was even locked in a psychiatrist for the whole f*cking vacations too. I’m mentally ill. I’m sick, that’s what you would call me. Just another psychopath from the lineage of Micheal Myers or other killer-creepypastas of 2011-2014. Nothing new, nothing unique, nothing special… completely familiar, right? But tell me yourself now. Wouldn’t you try it? Have you really never in your life had the feeling that you want to do something that is after all…. forbidden? You know it’s wrong. You know it’s awful. Inhuman. Terrible. Repulsive. Disgusting. And even though you call yourself a trustworthy good person… you know you hate someone. That there is someone you would kill. Someone you wish so badly. It’s as simple as that. And that’s why it’s so close to us. We are only human… another living existence on this planet. We will all die one day. Everyone knows that.
I hate most people - I hate shouting, screaming, crying…. I love only silence. That blissful silence, full of peace and lungs full of that air dirty by factories…. That’s why I killed him. He was terribly loud. I didn’t hate him, he was even one of the few whom I even loved, however, love often can’t stop real inclinations. During that stormy night, despite the rain hitting the windows illuminated only by lightning, I could still only hear his dull, loud cries.
He also hated noise…. he always cried when someone did something too loud. Especially when his parents were arguing. He always cried then. Killing him was honestly not difficult…. My hands are quite strong so I even did it with ease. When my parents came and saw me over his little, blue bed with his red blood on my hands… They also started screaming.
My mom even screamed harder than he did…
I killed them too. It was quiet… but only for a moment. I can hear police sirens in the distance. They are probably coming right after me. To lock me up. I suspect my neighbor called them. She probably heard my mom’s screams. Should I run away? I think I should… it’s a.. right thing? But is there really a point in that?
I don’t know how to answer that.
But I do know that I have wanted to do this for a long time. I suppose…