Matricide
Welcome, I'm so glad you could come. I hear you are a profound therapist indeed. Don't worry; I couldn't harm you, even if I wanted to. Please, come in. Sit down. The floor is quite comfortable.
How I got here, you ask? Well, that's why you're here. I wanted to confide in someone who knew about the human psyche, someone that might believe my side of the story.
You see, it's because of my mother. She never really liked me; I even suspected that she hated me. She'd beat me half to death; bloody noses, split lips, black eyes, many cuts and bruises. Sometimes she'd even break a bone or two. She'd never take me to a hospital; I had to let stuff heal on its own; make my own stitches and bandages.
Why she'd beat me? Well, my father died when I was young, and she could never keep a boyfriend for long. Every time someone broke up with her, I could expect to have fresh stitches before the night was out. She was probably just taking it out on me. She also did cocaine, that probably had a negative effect. But that can't be all, not for fierce beatings like that, so I'm not entirely sure.
I'm a somnambulist, you see. If there's something in my subconscious, I sleepwalk and attempt to take care of the problem, and have been known to do it quickly. My mother used to have this cat. She was old and she'd always scratch and bite me. And she just wouldn't die.
One night, about a year ago this was, I had thought about killing the cat. I figured it didn't want to live due to its age. But then I thought my mom might beat me. She loved that cat. Another reason it must die.
It was about midnight when I fell asleep. A crash of thunder woke me up. I was outside and saw that the cat hung limp, by a rope tied around its neck, from a tree. i dug a hole by hand and put the dead cat in. When I was done, it was half past midnight. My mother noticed the cat was gone after being awake for a couple of hours, and I told her it ran away. Later that day I got a beating, but it would've been worse if she knew I killed her cat,
But, since always, I've wanted to kill her. Every night, for a long time, I've wanted to skin her alive, cutting her tongue out first so she couldn't scream. I couldn't, for I didn't know what would become of me if I did (I knew for sure I'd get worse than a beating) but imagining it wasn't against the law. So I watched her die by my hand, usually several times, every night for weeks, almost always having to suppress the urge to actually do it.
But, one night, the beating got so bad I was knocked out, but it later turned to sleep. I woke up, knife in bloody hands, to the sound of police sirens. My chest and leg hurt due to broken bones from the beating. Apparently what had happened was the neighbors heard a single shriek - the one before I cut my mother's tongue out. They immediately called the police. The police were at my house in ten minutes, and before they arrived, my mother was completely skinned. I told them I was a sleepwalker, but they didn't believe me. They thought I was a lunatic. They said they never heard of someone who killed in their sleep, especially the way I did. So, they put me in this strait-jacket and threw me in this padded cell.
Now, I ask you: Have you ever heard of anything like this?
No?
I thought so.