I'm living life carrying a big burden, but it's who I am, it's who my father was, the great Ted Bundy.

I'm Charlotte Bundy, actually I'm under protection so my name was changed to Charlotte Martin. But recently I found my dad's secret life. All the evidence. The killings. & who my father really was.

I happened to go into the attic of my mother's house; since she had passed I put her house up for sell because there were some student loans I desperately needed to pay. I grabbed the string of a little light bulb on the ceiling & yanked it. It was dim at best but I could see the whole place was covered in cardboard boxes. I walked over & saw newspapers were the objects filling the boxes. I stooped down & grabbed a clipping out.

"Ted Bundy was executed at 7:00AM this morning on January 24th, 1989," it read. I questioned who this man was, but through digging deeper I found my mom's marriage licence. The man who signed to agree to marry was, Theodore Robert Bundy. So Ted Bundy. My mom married a killer?

I had no way of getting a direct answer from the source, my mom. I went over to the smallest box in the room. I opened it & it was brimmed with my baby pictures. My birth certificate happened to be mixed in. I fished the record out. The father marked was, Theodore Bundy. My father was..the killer. I looked deeper to find my social security cards, yes there were two. One marked, "Charlotte Bundy," & the other was, "Charlotte Martin."

Everything that I knew up until now was a lie. I had a father. & he's dead. I took the boxes with me for studying. I packed all my mother's things up & hauled them to a storage facility. I took the boxes of newspapers to my house.

I plopped down the largest box of clippings next to my lounge chair. I grabbed a huge stack & read through each grueling paper. Brenda, Katherine, Lynda, Donna, Debbie, Kimberly, & Denise, were some of the names of my father's victims. I cringed looking at their young faces, they all had something in common though, they all had Brown hair parted in the middle. The news articles read that their jaws were broken, heads crushed, & were all raped. My neck spasmed with anxiety. How did he not kill my mother? Why didn't he murder little me?! There must have been a sliver of humanity within him. He cared. He loved me. At least that's what the photos in the littlest box showed.
I live with knowing this secret that was hidden from me for half of my life. But I love my dad for giving me life.
My father- Ted Bundy.