Sympathy for the Devil

chapter 1

Ever since i was a kid, I've always felt different. I've looked different. I've even thought differently. I've been in and out of mental asylums since i was 4. My family calls me the "devils gift" hell, my grandpa even calls me the antichrist.

I cannot help the things i do, the things i say, or even the things i think. I didn't ask to be born like this. Nobody understands the severity of the shit that really goes on in my head.

One time, i remember very very well actually.. i was 7. It was right after my first vacation, we went to San Francisco. My brother's dream was to see the Golden Gate Bridge. If only we knew why he wanted to see it, maybe he'd still be here then. My brother was my best friend, he had always saved me from my parents. My parents are awful people. So, after i lost him.. i made plans. Evil plans.

We got home from that vacation, grief and sorrow filling our souls. My parents stayed in their room for days. I was neglected. I didn't eat. I drank water from the old well outside, sometimes killing small animals i saw just to get my mind off my brother's death. But i mostly killed Crows. They were a challenge that i loved. I had kept them all in a crawl space underneath the house, in which i was the only one that could fit. That's when i came up with the most brilliant plan.

That night, once the clock struck 3, i got together everything i needed. I had all my killed animals piled in the crawl space underneath where my parents bedroom was. All the work i really needed to do was find my fathers tool kit to collect his box of matches. I went out to the garage and grabbed the lighter fluid.

The tricky part, was stealing my fathers watch off of his sleeping body. I found his tool kit underneath his bed during this process, making everything so much easier. It was like this had been my destiny. To kill these evil monsters.

I successfully got his watch and the matches, snuck out back not making a peep, then went into the crawl space. At this point, it was pushing 3:28. I had 5 minutes to pull this off. Finally, i had reached the dead animals.

I sat and waited a few minutes, in pure joy. I did not think twice about doing it. At 3:32, i poured the lighter fluid all over the pile of animal corpses, completely emptying it. I lit a match. At exactly 3:33, i threw the match onto it, then hurried out of there.

I ran out into the alley next to my house, waiting for the house to start burning. Then i ran out screaming for help, making it look like a complete accident. Eventually, my parents came running out, screaming my name. "Damnit." I muttered to myself.

Eventually, a few days later, the police and fire department found out it was me who started the fire, from nearby security footage that saw me with the fire starter fluid and box of matches. I had no choice but to confess. Damn cameras.

They gave me some shit about how if i wasnt so young, i could be charged with "very serious cases" and then they sent me away. I came back to my parents when i was 12. in the time i was away, i had learned nothing. Shocker. When i got home, my family treated me different. My aunts, uncles, and cousins called me the devil. My Grandpa called me the Antichrist. My mother called me the devil's gift.

They had all each given me a nickname, but i can admit i loved all of the attention. My favorite one of all though, was my grandmas nickname for me. Crow. My Grandmother became my best friend after my brother died. She gave me the nickname, because i had always had a special connection with the creatures. And since i was about 5, always had a thing for hunting them.

She said everywhere we went together, there was always a flock of crows overhead, or following by the side of us. Now i pay attention to this. I always seem to end up seeing at least 2 crows in the area no matter the weather. Weird, huh?

With that being said, theres the type of person you're dealing with. Let me get things to speed with my current life though. Good luck;)