Psychopath

chapter one: fun times

well I'm going to give myself nightmares but eh here we go. also warning cos this is gonna be horrible but I feel like writing so yeah. feel free to turn this into a movie tbh. my characters.

It was cold. Dark. I checked my phone and read the time; 3 am. I must've woken up. Or had been woken up. Ha ha, very funny Lily-Anne, good way to scare yourself when it's early in the morning, and no one can her your screams- ok stop. I'd just recently moved out of my parents' house and bought a huge house - really cheap - and it was my second week here. I rolled over and desperately tried to go back to sleep. But I couldn't. Maybe it was too cold- no. There was scratching. I tried to tell myself it was mice. Scratch scratch. But then the singing started. I tried to tell myself it was the neighbours, having a party and drunk. But who would sing that creepy song?

I bound the rope to the ceiling, and bound it to my neck.

I stepped off the chair, and hung right there, regretting what I had said.

I screamed for help, but no one could hear,

And I thought I would die in fear.

And die I did,

Though suicide I did not commit.

I started hyperventilating; what was happening? All I needed to do was to do something normal. Drip drip. I don't remember leaving the tap on, but maybe I did. I reached down under my bed to pat my dog, but my hands touched a ratty, hairy thing. "Jeez Sammy, did you roll in the dirt again? You better not have trailed mud all through the house..." I trailed off as I got out of bed and walked out of my bedroom to the hallway. Where is that dripping coming from? I followed the sound of the dripping; it was coming from the bathroom. I seriously don't remember leaving the tap on. Maybe the pipes had busted or something. Yeah, that's probably it- I stopped at the bathroom door and flicked on the lights. I was horrified at what I saw in front of me- I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move or even scream. In front of me, my dog, Sammy, lay dead in the bathroom sink. Sammy. My childhood friend. He was getting old, but that is definitely not what happens when you die of old age. What the hell is going on here? Maybe there was something wrong with me, but I didn't cry. I was just terrified at what was happening. Startled, I notice writing on the mirror. The sickly look of it - blood, probably from Sammy - made me shudder. 'Let's have some fun, how about lights off?' as soon as I finished reading it, the tap went from a slight drip to full blown, water overflowing over the sink, red with blood. Flooding the bathroom floor in seconds. Then all the lights went off.

well that was jolly fun, i'll upload the second part now. -amelia