What up people?! Ha well first off I would like to say that I'm not going to continue the story Angels. So sorry about that. I lost interest in it. But I have started a new story. I promise I will finish it. So I am going to delete angels. Again I am sorry.

Now warnings for this story. It has some blood shed and psychotic thoughts. So I've decided I'm rating it M because I might go into detail. Most likely not but I never know. I'm trying for horror. But there will be Mitchie/Alex pairing. So if you feel scared or traumatized, just remember one thing; it's not my fault :p haha. Let the story begin.

Blood. It's all I can think about ever since I got locked up. Blood. I lust for it. I crave it. Just the sight of it makes me over the edge. Blood. It's what got me in this prison cell. Blood. I didn't mean for it to be my addiction; it just happened. It was suppose to be defense but it became a massacre. Blood on the walls. Flowing around the floor. Even flowing through them. I've always liked how it flows out. But coming from them, it made me more...happy. You think I'm insane? Go ahead say I am. The bullying, abuse, and humiliation you make on me...or her; the more enjoyable it will be to kill you. This isn't about revenge anymore, it's about lust. Blood. Blood. Blood. In few hours, I'll be out of here thanks to idiots who think addictions are easy to break. They aren't. But we'll keep it that way. Do I scare you? Do you think me insane? Well you shouldn't, cuz I was like any normal person, just with a lot of baggage that I decided to "let loose." They made me. They had it coming. They ALL did. And it only started at the place where I shouldn't have been exposed to this. I did all of it. Not for me, but for another too.

14 years ago

It was just any other day. I was walking home along with Alex.

"Mitchie?" She calls for me.

"Yeah" I responded

"Can I come over to your house?" Oh no no no no no no no. She can't!

"Umm I have a lot of stuff to do. And besides, my mom, dad and me are having a family night. It's kind of a tradition and my parents don't like anyone disturbing it unless they're family." That has to be the most lamest excuse I had ever made. And not even close to the truth..

"Oh ok." Ok good. She believed me. "Maybe some other right? How about tomorrow?" She didn't stop persisting.

"Umm we'll see." Its not that I didn't want her to come. If fact, it probably would have make everything brighter if she came. But I also didn't want to expose her to the mayhem in my house. There were some secrets to never tell.

"So I heard a rumor about Justin."

"Oh really. What about?"

"That he has a crush on me."

"Oh that's interesting. But it is just a rumor so don't get your hopes up."

"Oh...yeah. You're right. Why would he like me anyways?" She looked down and had a sad face. I didn't mean to make her sad, just like she didn't mean to make me sad whenever she talked about him. She had the biggest crush on him.

"He would be crazy to not like you, lex. I'm just saying, rumors are only rumors. Maybe he does like you but you're never gonna know the truth until he comes up and tells you it's true. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah. I just hope it's true." Ouch. That hurt.

"Well if he doesn't, I'll always like you." I give her a smile that's sincere. I really do like her and more than a friend at that. But she didn't need to know.

"Thanks Mitch. Well we better go our separate ways then. It's the end of the line from here."

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow lex."

We went our separate ways. She lived in a good neighborhood which I'm thankful for. At least I didn't have to worry about her. I lived in a bad neighborhood that I had to run home. When I got home, I heard faint sounds from the basement. It was my mom and dad taking care of business. The basement is pretty much sound proof so you can't hear anything unless you put your ear to it. I went over to the door and pressed my ear to the door. I heard them clearly.

"Where's the money Ronny?!" My dad yelled.

"I don't know! I was robbed! I swear!" Some guy said. I'm guessing Ronny.

"Don't make us ask again! Where is it?! Or we'll have to use to get it out of you!" My mom yelled.

"I don't have it. Please! Just let me go! I'll get the money!" Ronnie said

"You're lying! You're hiding it! Tell us or we'll kill you!" My dad yelled again.

"I don't have it! Please...I don't have it."

"Fine have it your way." I heard someone coming up the stairs. I hurry up and went into the living room and sit there like I didn't hear anything. The door opened and I look back. It's my dad and he goes into the kitchen. He came back out with a kitchen knife. He looked at me.

"What are you looking at?" He asked harshly.

"Nothing sir." I said quickly

"Did you hear any of that?"

"No sir."

"Good." He went back in. I wipe my forehead because of the sweat. I force myself to calm down. This had been my life ever since I can remember. My parents were drug dealers as well as drug addicts. They made their own when it first began, but now they sell them off and have expanded their business. They make their products in the extra room upstairs. I was six when they started having trouble their "employee" started stealing their own stuff for their own. Five years of hearing their "employees" being tortured, but they never killed them though which I'm surprised about. I don't think they really had the guts to kill them. Their "employees" thought they have it bad, try living with them. I got abused everyday. Everyday with a new bruise in unnoticeable places. It's hard to believe I didn't die. They didn't care about me. I hated them. I did everything I could to impress them. I've grown to take the neglecting and pain and not to cry. I was numb to their abuse a long time ago, but it didn't mean somewhere inside of me said runway. But the naive side of me said maybe they'll turn around their nature.

Their "employee" overstayed his welcome at home, and became aware that they weren't gonna kill him. No matter how bad the torture, he never gave in. My dad and mom knew he was lying about the money, even I knew. But they didn't have the guts to do the ultimate act. They were drug addicts; not killers.

I came home to another yelling match and I pressed my ear to listen.

"Tell where the money is!" My dad yelled.

"I don't have it. Just let me go!"

"Dammit! If you don't tell us, we will kill you."

"Ha! I dare you. Right here, right now! If you wanted me dead, you would've done it a long time ago! You're all talk with hollow threats!"

I didn't hear anything, and then I feel the door start to open and I see my dad had just opened it. I fell onto all fours and looked up.

"What are you doing Mitchie?! You know better than to eavesdrop!" My dad yelled.

"I'm sorry sir. It won't happen again." I said

"Steve, leave that trash alone. We have other business to attend to." My mom said

"Fine. We'll talk about your punishment later. Now go to your room." I do as he said

About an hour later I heard the door open. It's my dad.

"Mitchie, come with me." I hesitated but go along anyways. He took us to the door of the basement. He told me to go in. I got to see Ronny's condition. He had cuts and bruises everywhere and looked exhausted. He had dry blood. It made me sick to look at him. I saw my mother look at me but then looked away. I didn't know what to expect.

"I've decided on a punishment. I've decided I won't punish you like always." That meant no beatings from him or my mom.

"Um thank you, I guess." I said

"You're welcome, but you have to do something for me if you don't want your normal punishment."

"What is it?"

"You have to kill him." He said while pointing at Ronny.

"What?"

"You heard me! Now do it!"

I didn't know what to do. Take another abuse or take a life. But my options was chose for me..

"Kill him!" My dad said.

My mother, after seating their unresponsive, came up to me, pulled my arm to the man, and put the knife in my hand. "Kill him now!" She yelled.

I'm was shaking. With a knife in my hand. My parents yelled at me to kill him. I didn't know what to do. I felt helpless. What do I do? All I can hear was my parents yelling kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him...

Over the yells, I heard the man. "You're kid won't do your dirty work. She is just as weak as y'all." And that's when I snapped. "So you might as well let me.." Before he could finish I stabbed him in the stomach. He was shocked. I was too. It was quiet. Kill him. but I didn't let the shock process too long. I let the only thing I heard take over. Kill him. I took out the knife and he shouted. I took the knife and stabbed him and again until he fell silent. I looked at him. Their was blood everywhere. It was like an art. An art that I was in control of. The knife was my paint brush. My hands had blood on them. It felt sticky. I should be freaked but I'm not. I feel proud.

"Good job Mitchie." My dad say.

I look back at him and that's when I really realize what I have done. I'm a killer and I can't take it back. Blood is on my hands. I'm confused.

"Go upstairs and clean up. We'll take care of everything down here." He said

I went back up. I let everything sink in. What have I become? I'm wasn't ashamed. I was proud. I wasn't traumatized. I felt ecstatic. I felt this sense of accomplishment. I didn't understand...

forgive me for any mistakes I make or any missing words. Also, there's more to come.