Back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth....
It's continuous. It's all I do. Every. Single. Day. I sit in my corner, and I rock. Back and forth, back and forth. I fight the demons controlling my head. Back and forth, back and forth. I stare and the blindingly-white walls. Back and forth, back and forth.
They say that I'm crazy. They say I'm a danger. They say I need help. But what do they know, really? I mean, I did kill my parents. But it wasn't my choice. It was the Voices. They told me too. I cannot disobey them, just like I cannot escape them. Neighbors heard some commotion and called the police who showed up shortly after. They walked in right as I had taken my hand from inside of my father's bloody stomach. I guess you could say 'they caught me red-handed.'
I smiled at my own joke. I don't know what it was about killing that had me so fascinated. The idea that a human life was in my hands was always pleasing. Like it was for me to choose. Do they live? Do they die? All up to me. My parents weren't my first kill...oh, no. They were just the first one where I got caught. I remembered my first one with a smile on my face.
Little Austin Carlile. Well, not little. He had actually been much taller than I. Austin and I had some...differences. I tried to kiss him in the seventh grade and he made a fool of me in front of the entire school. So, I followed him home. I busted through his window and walked over to his bed. I stared down at his peaceful face. A smile crept onto my lips as I pulled out my switchblade. I jammed it into his stomach and twisted. His eyes jolted open and he was gasping for air. His eyes met mine, pleading me to stop. My smile only widened as I kept twisting the knife. He began choking on his blood, eventually forcing it out of his mouth and onto his white t-shirt. Once he stopped squirming, I slid the knife from his flesh. I licked the blade, the metallic taste of his blood settling on my tongue. I bent down and kissed his lips briefly. It was a shame, really. He was a great guy. But no one makes a fool out of me. I took one last glance at his lifeless body. I shrugged and turned toward the window, climbing out and walking through the dark streets.
So I was thirteen when my obsession started. I killed my parents when I was about fifteen. I've been in here for nearly two years, and let me tell you, it gets boring. But, it is quite entertaining how everyone in here seems to be afraid of me. My nurse doesn't even come in here anymore, since the time I tried to stab her eye out with my fork. Good times, good times. But since then, I'm not provided silver wear, and my meals are slid under the small gap of the door. I guess I don't blame them. I kind of missed my nurse though. I actually went to school with her. Jenna McDougall. She's a peach, really. She was always nice to everyone, including me. So why did I try to stab her eye out you ask? She called me crazy. You may say I'm overreacting, but really, I'm not. I just don't appreciate being called false names.
Crazy is such an ugly word. I prefer the term...slightly disturbed. Yes, much better. My name is Kellin Quinn, and I am slightly disturbed.
