Despite being the weird and lonely kid, my childhood was pretty good. I shouldn't complain. My mother gave me lots of freedom. She trusted me. She understood that I was arcane. She knew I was different, she understood all my traits. Friends to me were irrelevant, I didn't need them. I spent all my time outside in the backyard. We owned a good acre of land behind our house. The neighbors were never a problem, however there were way too many wild animals. Squirrels and rabbits would eat off mom's garden, they were pests. They're what I'd practice on. It wasn't hard to do. Whenever we got new silverware I kept the old knives since they were obsolete. I'd put them in a cloth after every use and the only other place kept them was in the bag of books and toys I brought with me to the woods. Mom knew I had done this, which was strange because she never had a problem with what I did. I never harmed anyone, nor myself so she let it be. Thinking about all of this is nostalgic , even though there were so many awful memories, there were so many good ones to reflect.
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Precinct
Mystery / ThrillerIsn't it a sad story when a illness takes over your body. He's aware of what he's doing. He's not oblivious. He's one man, with a series of murders tied to his name and one precinct.
