Lori Born Evil

Seven: Birthday Kill

Age Eleven:

Papa got me a cell phone for my birthday. I know exactly why he does this. He is planning on leaving us. He is the type of man to abandon things when they get hard; a coward. He bought me a cellphone to keep in contact with me, not having to ask to talk to me when Mama answers.

I think Mama knows he’s leaving too. She seems dead. Lifeless. Her smiles aren’t real anymore. She’s pale and has dark, sleepless eyes. They haven’t slept in the same bed in 5 months.

Mama did buy me puppy: a little schnauzer puppy with big round black eyes.

It only took me a week to snap. I stuck pins in it, making it whimper and squeal.

I love it!

 I cut the little things body in two. I got to see its brain. I licked my blood covered hands. Its stomach and intestines were so gorgeous. I took the time to play with them. Feel them in between my fingers. The blood was so sweet and satisfying. It was like dessert that I have been longing to have in so long.

I put the thing in a garbage bag, along with my clothes, which were stained with its blood. I walked out to the woods when Mama was taking a nap with Grace and Papa was at work.

I lit it on fire with Papa’s matches and watched it burn. The fire smelled like heaven. I was high off the thrill of the kill. I felt exhilarated; as if my whole body was vibrating with joy.

I didn’t want to lose this feeling. I knew then what I had to do.