Everyday that i can look into a reflective surface all i see is someone who was once sane. I don't like to kill them, i think of their families, i think of the lives they could have had. I don't know if it's some fucked up sense of justice or if I just hate those who are idiotic enough to ruin theirs and everyone's lives.
When i do kill someone i have to imagine the lose of life and all of their experiences coming to an end to even feel the smallest amount of remorse. honestly I am tortured by my own obsession and the sooner someone kills me the better.
The reason i even remember this is because right now I'm looking into a mirror stains with my latest victims blood and i can see myself, not the killer. i remember how I came to this point.
I was 16, i was an only child, my parents were loving, i had friends, my life was great why did it come to this? There, that man that destroyed my life, he claimed to be my friend but he was the furthest thing from. he would always get into doing illegal things with him, drugs, stealing, breaking into
houses, and if we got caught he was no where to be found.
That moment right there is when it all went down. He had dragged me into a drug deal somehow, it went bad and we were on our knees at gun point. I brought my knife with me for a situation like this, i cut my wrist so that they would let me wrap it up, as they released me i stabbed one of the guards in his left leg tendon severing it, i grabbed his gun and shot the other four men in the room.
I looked back at my friend and again he was gone, next time I saw him i wouldn't let him leave so easily.
The news went crazy about that story, of course word got around that i was the one who killed the men, police couldn't convict me under the grounds that it was self defense nor did i have any drugs on me or in me. After all of that everybody saw me as a cold blooded killer, some thought i was the most badass person, others were afraid that i was going to kill them as well.
A week later my friend (if i could even call him that) stopped by my house and gave me the bullshit of "why did i kill him, it was all going good, now i don't have anyone to score dope from." That was the breaking point, i pulled him inside and threw him against the wall "do you have any idea what that did to me? Now everyone either hates me or is too scared to be around me, and where were you when it happened? gone like you always are when I'm in trouble."
he laughed at me, I was done with his shit, i took my knife and jammed it into his throat, but he was still laughing, i cut out his toungh, i cut his cheeks open, i punched in his teeth, any thing to get him to stop laughing. finally i pushed him to the floor and took one last stab into his head, he just stared at me as his laughing lessend.
I was truly the killer everyone feared and hated, i ran out from my house and didn't stop until it was night, i passed out from the pain and the shock.
I realized I was still looking in the mirror, but I saw my friend in the reflection instead of the killer. My friend was me.
Written by Beyond the Shroud