WARNING: DARK AND GORY
13 nowhere road
London
England
Dear prisoner no. 102,
I'm sorry you ended up where you are. Sorry the paper's red, there's jam on it, but I don't need to tell you the difference, do I? It's not jam they found on your floor in a puddle, was it?
Anyway, I heard your story on the news and felt sorry for you because you had no-one to talk to, so I decided to help you by talking to you. I mean, we're not so different really.
What I mean to say is, the reason I'm in a forest at 3am writing this letter, is that I'm thought to be mad. I needed to rid myself of those dreadful, dreadful voices, for I could not stand them any longer.
I was normal once, until HE came along. He, my mum's new boyfriend that started all of this. He seemed nice enough, he was funny, kind, sweet and polite, but there was one problem. He brought me bad thoughts- oh so many bad thoughts. His voicesent my ears ringing, almost as though I could hear his thoughts and feelings. He hated me, I could sense it. All my friends think so too.
Mum doesn't like my friends. She sais they aren't nice, not are they real. I don't know what she means, I mean, if I can see them, hear them, touch them,then they must be real, right?
My friends told me that he wasn't good for mum and that he should leave. I tried to get him to leave- it didn't work, but I tried. I tried nicely at first, asking him. Then I told him to leave. Then I asked- no, begged him to leave, but he wasn't listening. Mum thought I was being rude, but we were just trying to help her. Why couldn't she see that?!
All the time he was there, my friends told me he was bad. The longer he stayed, the louder, louder, LOUDER they got. They said it so many times, I could hear it, even when they weren't there! He wasn't listening to us, but he had to leave. I decided to take it into my own hands.
Every night, I would lie awake, thinking, no, planning what I would do to make him leave. I would make it quick- so it wouldn't hurt. I'm not a monster. For three months I did this, my friends turning to enemies as they grew louder, louder, louder still. This continued until my friends were screaming in my ears and I couldn't take it any more.
I crept silently- oh so silently, up to my dear, dear mother, who I was trying to save's, room. I moved the door ever so slowly so as to not make a single sound. It took me two hours to get the door open, but when it was, I crept so very, very carefully, picking up the knife that he had kept their from their dinner of steak.
I snuck across the black room, clutching the knife so as not to drop it. When I got close enough to reach, I did it. I stabbed him. Stabbed him straight through the heart, not even a slight noise. The voices were quiet. It was done - but the body? I dragged it, still silent so as to not wake my mother. I dragged him to my wardrobe, placed him in there, and locked it. I could move him further in the morning. That didn't matter. What mattered was my mother was safe and my friends and I were happy.
So you see, I am like you. I hope that when you get your death penalty, you don't join your wife. There must have been a reason you killed her.
I must go, the polise are searching for me. I've never told you my name, from fear. Let's say my name is Lily. I do not want to be found. The adress is also fake. There is no 'Nowhere Road'. See? I'm not mad, I'mclever and strategic.
From Lily
