I Faked My Death.

What a great actors they are? Should I now stand, clapping loudly with teary eyes as if in amazement? Or should I now send them to Cannes and get them praised? Did they get that in some sort of hollywood acting workshop? Oh don't forget to note the sarcasm honey.

I'm currently watching the whole group of freaks from afar using this binoculars I bought from some kids in the street. I can't miss this very special event of my life. It's the day where the freaks will watch me getting buried six feet under the ground. A day to celebrate for evils like them.

It's my funeral by the way.

And I assure you, there will be an after party.

Just imagine how these bunch of evil minions will party; naked dancing with large forks in hand; a blood for liquors; and human eyes as their finger food- Okay that was kind of disgusting already.

Well who are those freaks I'm pertaining to? Count in my step wicked witch of a mother, her new pervert of a husband- the replacement of my loving father who just passed away four months ago. My all voodoo-dolly-slutty fake girl friends and a whole gang of a douchebag classmates and some other from other blocks. My freakery-ogre of a whore step sister whose restraining herself from grinning while splattering the blessed water to my coffin. And of course, my evil-scamp of a boyfriend -oh! Let me rephrase that; my evil-liar-scamp of an EX-boyfriend whose just in poker.face while my coffin was getting burried. I'll thank all of them in hell for attending to my funeral.

But before you guys run with peed-pants, I'm not a cursing ghost here, okay?

I just faked my death that's all.

In that way, I can intelligently plot a vengeful plan to all of them.

And as my fake body get buried, I'll also bid goodbye to the stupid-all-goody girl side of me. And I will return with all this vengeance and anger rising inside of me. And lastly, I'll make sure that to die is the only option of escape for my ruthless revenge.