The Homicide Club (First Draft)

The Homicide Club (First Draft)

  • WpView
    Reads 33
  • WpVote
    Votes 0
  • WpPart
    Parts 2
WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, May 1, 2016
I don't kill because I want to. I do it because I have to. Need to. Don't judge me. When you grow up the child of two convicted serial killers, surrounded by death and indifference, death and indifference seems to swallow you whole and you become it. And I did. I'm a murderer. And now I'm here, In this place. This fucking loony bin and I have no one to blame but myself. Not because I gave into my temptation but because I walked into this prison. Spoke to the receptionist. Checked myself in. I expected to be cured. I expected all the sinful thoughts and shit to go away. Poof. Gone. What I didn't expect was to find a bipolar, a recovering meth addict, and a shrink who's cured nothing but my aversion to men. In this place, the only thing I'm killing is myself.
All Rights Reserved
Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.
Illustration

You may also like

  • Someone New ✓
  • Hello~ (Butcher Wally x Reader) [DISCONTINUED]
  • THE AFTERMATH
  • His Little Play Thing
  • The Torment
  • NightCrawler✔
  • THE THERAPIST
  • The experiment.
  • Unraveling Him | A mafia Story
  • Replaceable Timelines: Book 1. [COMPLETED]

"There comes a point where you no longer care if there's a light at the end of the tunnel or not. You're just sick of the tunnel." - Who I am doesn't matter. How I got here doesn't matter. What matters now is I'm getting help, right? That's what they tell me here. They tell me that the road to recovery feels like a terrible butt fuck, but the fact that you're on the path to begin with, is all that matters. So as I sit in this circle of fuck ups, I realize just how different I am from them. I didn't attempt suicide because my mother was a crack addict who didn't want me. My father wasn't abusive. I didn't have a sibling die in a car accident. I was never really bullied either. I attempted suicide because, for the first time in years, I thought I had found something that could make me feel again... and after not feeling much at all for far too long, perhaps I went a bit overboard

More details
WpActionLinkContent Guidelines