Hi...my name is Mellow. I'm 19 now...and Uhh, I've killed many people. Before you go, let me explain.
It all started when I was born into a family of 5. I was the youngest. There was my Mom, my dad, and my big brothers, Traydon and Vincent. My dad close friend also lived with us. Traydon was almost 18 when I was born, but Vincent was only 3 years older than me. My family was...different. They weren't the loving family most people haves. We were killers. They trained us to kill...well, they trained my brothers. I was the test dummy. They used me as a target. When we killed families, I was the one to take care of the kids until the job was done. They would then kill the kids. It may have been because I was a girl, or maybe because I was a kid. I hated it. I was always locked in a...y'know what? That isn't Important. On with the story. When I was 8, they...they locked me in a room with my big brothers and the family friend. Mom went out and came back with a rope. They tied me to a chair. I couldn't get out. The family friend, Cane, hit me in the side of the head with a gun. When I woke up, there was a camera set up in front of me. Cane was recording me. Mom and dad were standing behind me. Mom began to untie my hands. I begged them to tell me what was happening. I remember my dad saying
"Marshmallow." That is what my dad called me. He always said I was to soft, like a marshmallow. "You wanna play a game?" I told him I didn't. They didn't stop. They made me bite my arms. They made me bite off my finger. Cane cut me and my mom burned me using a blow torch. I don't remember much of what happened next. I just remember the lights. Red and Blue...flashing lights. I knew to fear those lights. I hid the best I could. Men in blue and black uniforms came into the room with guns. The others had fled and got away, leaving me with the camera. A man came close to me, I covered my sobs of pain and fear and closed my eyes. There was yelling and the man grabbed my arm. I screamed from the pain. They pushed me into a bed. I tried to run, but they strapped me down with restrains and put a mask over my face. I began to feel tired as they pushed the bed into a truck with flashing lights. I must've fallen asleep because the next thing I remember is being in a softer bed in a bright room with an annoying beeping machine. I slowly lifted myself off the bed to sit up. My hand was bandaged up and the missing finger wasn't there. That's how I knew it was real. They made me bite it off... when I looked around the room, something caught my eye. I couldn't read it. I was never taught to read, but it looked like a name. I moved to pick it up, but I pressed a button on accident. I jumped out of the bed and hid. A small buzzing sound filled the room. A lady came into the room and began looking for me. She called me "Jane Doe" I didn't know who that was. My name was Mellow. She found me though. I tried to run, but she grabbed me and layed me back on the bed. "Jane doe! Calm down" she said that name again. I stopped moving and began to cry. She calmed me down and told me they had been calling me Jane Doe since I was put into the hospital. They told me that my case was over, and that I was going to be put in a foster house. I told them my name and my family's name and told them everything that happened. A few hours passed before another lady came in and she introduced herself as Mary. She said she is going to adopt me. And she did. I lived with her and she taught me how to read and write. And I...I was happy. Mary has lost her son a month before I came to her. He was 8. She kept telling me I was 8 when I was only 4. But years passed and I never told her it had bugged me because I didn't want her to hurt me. I knew she never would, but, I just couldn't bring myself to accept that. The day before I turned 16, she went out to get a surprise birthday present for me. I laughed and joked with her before she left, but when she was gone, I heard someone coming to the door. I was scared. I hated opening the door. So I didn't. But before they left, I heard them slip a note through the mail slot. I picked it up, and read it. I dropped it when I was done and began to cry. It read...
"Happy birthday little sis~Your family" fear shot through my body. How did they find me? Why now? I cried on the floor for about an hour when I heard someone coming back. It was Mary. I wiped my tears and hid the note. But when Mary came inside, she was angry.
She began to cuss and yell at me. I couldn't understand why. Until I saw she had a note too. One just like mine. She was moving so much, I couldn't see much of what it said. All I could see was a photo of me, holding her son down while my brother stabbed him. Her son died with his father because my family has killed him. She blamed me. Fear struck me again and I dropped to the floor. She grabbed a knife and ran to me, carving "marshmallow" on my back. I screamed in pain. I wanted to die. I felt her carve the next word. "Murderer" and that's how I got my name. "Marshmallow murderer" I grabbed the knife from her hands and swung. I swung and swung and swung hitting her wherever I could. Stabbing her over and over again. I hated her. I couldn't feel anything but pleasure as I stabbed her. And I still do to this day. That's why I kill people. I kill to free children of horrid parents. The world must be cleansed of this hell.
