Diary of a Teenage Stalker

Entry Six

April 1st about 12:00 a.m.

I can hear the police sirens wailing through the night, even under the shelter of the trees the sounds pierce through the air until they’re almost blaring in my ears. I feel dizzy, sick, numb.

I’ve managed to keep my dinner down, blood doesn’t really affect me like it does some people I guess. I never thought of myself as squeamish, but I never realized how opposite of that I was. You see, I learned something today, or more yesterday.

I learned that I like the sight of blood.

Its color, the way it flows from open wounds and seeps out into the floor, sinks through the cracks. It’s like it has a life of its own, it’s like by watching it you’re actually watching the life flow away from them. It makes me feel closer to people than I ever have before, it makes me feel like we finally understand each other. Second thing I learned to day.

I like the sound of your scream.

I could tell you didn’t see it coming before I slipped into your room, through that window you always left open to ward off the hot air that circulated through your house. I saw it in your eyes that you didn’t understand at first, but when I leveled the barrel of the gun on your head you screamed, and maybe it’s wrong but it felt so good to hear that. You see, it felt so good to realize that you understood my pain in that one second before your death. That you understood how I felt when you tossed me aside after you had used up everything I had given to you, after you stomped on my heart. Terror, complete and utter terror. I hope you feel it long after your death you bitch.

I was sad before I went to your house, I was sad when I pulled the trigger and the bullet ripped a hole through your pretty little face, but after you had fallen on your bed, sheets already stained red with the blood, and I had kept playing the sound of your scream through my mind I realized I wasn’t sad. I realized you had gotten what you deserve, and I’ll make sure that everyone else gets the same.

I’ve said it before, life is pain, life is suffering. You live in agony until you gasp out your last breath. So I’ve made it my duty to help people with their suffering, so they won’t have to hurt anymore, live with their silent screams for help.

They should call me a hero, instead they’ve sent the police who will try to hunt me down like a dog. But they won’t catch me, not yet, maybe not ever.

 I have too much work to do.

Yours Truly, and Always With Love,

Josh