Camera

Click Click

Friday the 13th of October 1960 was the day I started turning into a psychopath with a camera. You see I was only 13 when my life took a twist. I bought a camera with my pocket money,( I had always wanted to be a photographer) and I bought it from a random shop. I excitedly took it out of its grubby paper bag and said, "Click Click". I snapped my first picture of a cat, just to test the old thing out. When I looked up after the blinding light the cat was gone.  My eyes stared at the picture. It was of the cat but it was moving, it was like the cat was trapped. My heart pounded against my chest, I was confused. I tore the picture up like a wolf tearing a rabbit apart and sprinted home.  I slammed the front door and bolted up to my room. I was pacing for what seemed liked hours. I looked in the bag the camera came in, a note lay crumpled. It said," Use it on the creatures you despise, this is a powerful weapon." I decided the creatures I despised were humans.

I didn't just randomly think "I want to cause people pain," I had reasons. I'd been bullied verbally and physically. I just didn't fit in. They called me a freak, and a psychopath here's a tip don't tell a psychopath they are a psychopath. I needed a way to make them suffer for what they'd done. The first victim was a boy called Oliver. The big day came the day I got Oliver Butcher out of my life, he's the one who began the trend of everyone hating me. I hate him. And he's going to get a bit of painful payback. It was November 1st, 1960, his birthday. Everyone he knew was gathered at his house for a surprise party, I wasn't invited. What bad manners. He was walking alone it was my perfect shot. Ha, get it? Shot, camera? Never mind. I was sneaking behind him like I was in James Bond or a cliche spy movie. My camera was ready to pounce. I threw some rocks at him he turned around. I wonder what his last words will be? He started to walk over to me, anger flaring in his eyes. I wonder if he's going to be missed? He edged even closer. How many people will go to his funeral? His lasts words; "What ya doin' freak face?" In a split second, my nerves began running a marathon. I didn't say anything. My finger found the switch, "Click Click," a blinding flash and where was he? In my little polaroid print. Nice going, Ollie.

Now it's 1991, 31 years since I did that and what did I do?  Carry the hell on. The police ain't got a clue where all 467 people have gone. No one can know. No one.

This secret is coming to my grave with me. Click Click.