The sight of their lifeless bodies brought me a sadistic pleasure i've never felt before. They deserved this...I'm just surprised that they gave up so easily. Originally i planned to let each of them try to fight before finally killing them. I would never let them do this to me. They were wrong in choosing me. The adrenaline was overwhelming my mind, body, and soul...thats another thing, sometimes i wonder if i even have one. But wait, let me take you back and explain how this all started....
So let me just start off by saying I haven't always been this way. It isn't my fault either. You see, My parents got together when they were in High School. My mom was 14, and my dad was 15. My dad and my mom weren't always "in love". At first my mom wanted nothing to do with him, but she was invited to a party where the man, who i'm ashamed to call my father, took advantage of her. She got pregnant and they later married. Thats how my sister came along, her name is Robin. I could spend hours going on and on about my sisters many failures in life, but neither of us is getting any younger, or in my case...anymore sane. I have 2 older sisters and an older brother who died when i was 5 years old in a car accident. i've always hated being the youngest in my family. Im always the one thats picked on, pushed around, and even enslaved. anytime my oldest sister Robin wouldn't want to do something, which was always, it would be left to me.
My sister Raven was the only one that i will EVER miss. She cared...like no one else did. Unfortunately there was many problems in my house, and she gave up on life leaving me behind in this god forsaken house. She decided that a bottle of pills would fix her irreparable life. When in reality...by ending her life she ended mine too. I won't mention the countless times i cried throughout the night. She meant more to me than anyone, but after the sadness wore off i was left emotionless.
I didn't know what to feel anymore. Everything was backwards. Things that used to bring me great pleasure now only bore me, and things that used to terrify me now are my only escape from this ever so intense depression. I might sound crazy to you, but thats just simply because I AM. Soon after my depression and grief, i began to feel different. i wanted to watch other people suffer through everything i had. They had to be as dolorous as I was.
My mother was one of the worst people you could ever come to know. She was abusive, obscene, vindictive, hypocritical, and manipulative. I dont blame her my father was the same way but worse. He would come home late at night completely plastered. He would walk into me and my sisters room and force us to do unmentionable things. He would just tell us he loved us and to keep quiet. I nor my sister knew what to do in that moment so we just obeyed...afraid of what the alternative would be.
Victimized by our own creator.
Enough was enough, after i turned 14, I was no longer led to think such things were OK. I had to take a stand for myself.
Thats when it all started...
It was late september in my Freshman year of high school. I hated high school from the beginning. I wasnt what you would think of as "your averege teeneger". I was actually quite the opposite. I looked perfectly content on the outside, but there was a raging storm within. I had a lot of friends but i couldn't trust any of them. Come to think of it, I couldn't trust anyone, I can't trust anyone.
Over time i became good at hiding what i really felt. Most people thought of me as an outgoing and bubbly girl. The only reason i kept things to myself was because i was tired of making people try to care ,when they obviously didn't. So after a while i just gave up on it completely...I figured nothing bad could come from it, but i was wrong. It only made things worse. However, nothing could ever be the same ever again.
There would be days where i was just completely distraught, and other where the mere thought of going home filled me with a rage I could not explain. I didn't understand myself at that point.
