Introduction

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Thursday November 21, 1962, 12:31am

He walked along the sidewalk blood splattered all over his thin pale face, navy blue jacket  and blue jeans he had long black hair that hung in his eyes he was tall andHe had a tight grip on a knife that dripped with crimson red. The air was thick and silent, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of his footsteps and the sound of something being dragged across the concrete..step.. step.. screech... step...step..screech... He dragged a cloth bag with something heavy inside it. Every time he dragged it a thick red line followed behind.. How do I know exactly what's going on right now?. I am him! The blood that drips from my knife and the thick red line following me is the blood of the people I hated! I despised them. They treated me like I Was nothing! Until I Was holding the knife my father gave me before He died. I have killed 73 people, 50 men and 23 women. They all said I was weak. I AM NOT WEAK! I mutilated  their bodies and hacked them up into little pieces. You probably think I'm insane don't you? WELL I'm not! the madness helps me not feel pain anymore.. it helps me kill the people who treated me like a child, as if I understood  NOTHING! I DID understand! I grew tired of the names I was called stupid, dumbass, little, and weakling.  Let me tell you about the first person I ever murdered.

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