I don't remember much from back then. It was so long ago. I was only 6 years old, small and fragile, quiet and curious. Although within my mind I was anything but timid.
Every night I had violent dreams of killing either family members or friends, all of which I loved dearly. It was like I wasn't actually making the decision to slaughter the ones I loved, I just watched myself ignore their helpless screams, and I would slit their throats, plunge a knife through their chests or just grip tightly on their necks.
In comparison, although these dreams were on a disturbing level much beyond my years, they were relatively harmless. On September the 15th, 1997 I slaughtered the majority of my family. My parents and my two younger siblings, aged just 3 and 4 years.
I just about remember my older sister of 11 years walking in to a bloody scene. She stared at me, completely unharmed with a large knife coated in my family's blood in my small, pale hands, surrounded by our dead family members. I remember giggling at her hysterics before she struggled over the 4 corpses and launched at me.
I hit my head on the wall behind me. I was knocked out, which is the main reason my memory is so blurry. My older sister called the emergency services and our lovely cottage at the centre of a peaceful community in the countryside was wrapped up in the yellow and black police tape.
I remember flashing lights and sirens as I was taken to hospital in an ambulance for concussion. My parents and my two younger siblings didn't make it to the hospital. There was no hope for them.
And I'm clueless to how a weak six year old girl who always came close to last in the sports days at school managed to slaughter four fifths of her immediate family members without a second thought.
YOU ARE READING
Child murderer
УжасыA young woman looks back on her childhood quite unlike any other little girls. Her family, dead. Murdered by her. All except her older sister. And that was all before her 7th birthday.
