Random horror stories

My time part one

It has been six years since I committed my first murder. Ah I remember it like it was just yesterday. The day started off as usual, I woke up with A raging headache and my back was killing me. I walked over to the bathroom mirror and looked at myself. I thought to myself :Marie West, you look awful. I then reached for my tooth brush when I noticed a razor blade just sitting there. It brought me back to when I was 13 and just starting to cut. The reason I cut is because I have major depression. I choose to ignore the voices in my head saying (kill, kill, kill yourself now!) The voices tend to get louder when I try to sleep any night but it usually doesn't bother me. So knowing all the pain I went through I decided to pick up the razor blade and just have some fun. I slowly began to make incisions on my legs. I love to cut deep. In some since it relaxes me. So after making the cuts I looked at the clock which read 7:15. I then hurried up and dressed and clothed myself in my skin tight blue jeans, which my best friend Paige singed and my t-shirt for Deca, which is a club I'm a part of. I then walk out the door and smoked until the bus got to my house. I smoke before I go to school because it helps calm me. It makes it easier to deal with the mental torment that I go through. I got on the bus and sat in my usual seat, number 13. I love sitting there because its directly in the middle of the bus. Sitting in the middle of the bus basically means that I'm not sitting in the annoying kids section nor am I sitting in the assholes section in the back. So after I sit down I get my headphones out of my bag and start listening to my music. I listen to music every morning when I get on the bus because:

1. I don't like to talk to people.

And

2. I like to relax to the sounds of my favorite rock bands.

So after the boring and quite bus ride to school I start to make my way to first period. On my way there I start to hear a voice in my head saying (Kill your teacher. He is nothing more than a asshole who deserves death.) I start to walk in the room, when I hear the voices getting louder and louder. I sit down and try to shake away my thoughts. I then feel a strange urge to cut. Not myself but others. I then hear my teacher say that it's time to get out our history books, but when I reached in my bag, there was nothing. Just a huge butcher knife. I then knew what I had to do. So I clenched the knife tight in my hand and made my way to his desk. All the children in the room started screaming when they saw me take the butcher knife and cut off our teachers head. I then turned around to them and screamed (SHUT UP OR I WILL LOCK THE DOORS AND WINDOWS AND MURDER YOU ALL ONE BY ONE!) They then fell silent as I began to clean off my knife with my now dead teachers shirt.

TO BE CONTINUED...