Goodbye Sanity

Begging

So if Aaron wants me to write in this shitty book I better start from the begging.

Hi,

*My names Lukkas South.

I was born in Devon and then from here I moved to London.

My parents where business people and had no time for me. All they cared about was money. I think that's what drove me to do it...

But we'll get to that.

It was June. Sun was at its hottest and children where laughing, mothers were loving. Everything seemed like one big perfect picture. But no. Wait. There's that one boy, I'd say he's about 12, but he's sitting all alone. No mother, no father. This is London for fuck sake! That boy should not be alone.

But he is.

I watch his face and I can see what he's looking at.

Gaping, he's staring at the mothers and fathers with there, happy as can be children.

That's when he does it. Thats when i do it...

He, myself, pulled out a revolver.

Bang, first kid down.

Bang, second child dead.

bang, two parents gone.

I regret it now.

I do,really. But hey, i was young, we all make mistakes...*

Okay Lukas, I like what you've told me so far, this is good.

His pen was shaking in his left hand. He was pale and sweating.

Almost inching away from me, a normal reaction. Aaron got up and slowly not turning his back, left the room with a smile saying, 'stay away from me you crazy monster'.

Aha, i love the reactions... I really do.

Normally, after I've told my story I just sit in my cell and scream. Just scream for hours. This is normally to add effect to the whole 'I kill innocent people to get a hit' scenario. But after all these years my voice box has paid the price. Sometimes, not very often, but sometimes, my voice goes extremely high pitched and I sound like a four year child I once killed. An example: it was about a month ago, I was in the canteen line and I ordered a chicken pie, "Hi, yeah can I get a ... oh fuck. Fuck sake man... Yeah ignore my voice this always fucking happens when I get angry... IT'S BECAUSE IT'S THE LAST FUCKING CHICKEN PIE." and the guy behind me obviously heard and saw this whole drama. "What the fuck dude, you sound like a little kid"

"What did you say to me?" I could feel my veins pumping through my pale, torn skin. Before he could answer me I stabbed him in the eyeball with my plastic fork; it snapped before I could pull it out . So there he was, a middle aged man named Sam, looking like something out of a freak show, half a fork in his left eye, ruby red blood spraying into the chicken pie and soaking his thin linen cloths.

 That'll teach him.