It wasn't my fault at all. I have a disorder and I kill people. So what, it's not like I can help it. It's not like I had a family to love me or help me, no they didn't care at all. The only people I loved were my mom and baby brother. So I killed my sister, her boyfriend, and my dad. It's not my fault they didn't love me. But when my mom found out she told on me and that's what made me crack. I was trying to protect her. Then all the other people I killed, well that also wasn't my fault. The voice in my head told me to, I tried to tell them that but they didn't listen. So I killed more and I killed often. It was a relief to murder and I started doing it on my own without my voice telling me to. I didn't want to stop so I kept doing it. But when the police tried to catch me and failed it made me feel better, invincible even, so I continued to kill. They couldn't stop me. But like I said it wasn't my fault. If you found a great way to blow off steam, wouldn't you keep doing it? Exactly you would, so that's what I did. I kept killing and I felt even better after each kill. So I did it again and again. What I hated was the screams when I attacked them. I was trying to make it enjoyable but the desperate screams and cries and pleads took that away from me and made me angry. So to show them how mad I was I killed them. After a while I didn't want to anymore, but the voices came back to me and forced me to kill more. I really wanted to stop but I wasn't allowed to. So instead of fighting it I gave in and killed more. Since then I haven't been able to stop but I don't think I want to. Or the voices don't want me to.
