Author Note: This is my first story it might not be my best. Enjoy!
March 10th, 1987
I NEED to kill. I have always have a passion for killing anything. Anything being an ugly flower or an animal that I choked (Maybe the neighbors animals. They own a farm). People think I escaped from a mental hospital because of the clothes I wear. The dress I wear came from a mental hospital from the 60's. Very vintage! It feels good to have something from so long ago. My grandma made me write in this stupid thing. I HATE IT! It makes me want to rip someone's HEAD OFF! I will never write in this thing ever again! Even if i have to go to a mental hospital and they make me... I will go kill.