Bart Simpson...the name alone makes me furious. Yet, some days it is the only thing that gets me up in the morning. It's hope. That one day, when I get out of here, I'll find a way to kill the boy possessing that name and therefore evict him from my mind.
It's not just the name that angers me. In my dreams I always see him. I face a small figure, and note the spiky blonde hair, the wide fear-filled eyes, the careless stature, and I know it's him. And yet, while I know he's terrified of me, he always wins. In real life, but when I dream about him, he wins again.
I've memorized everything about Bart Simpson, from his don't-care air, to his high-pitched scream whenever he sees me. I know he's memorized everything about me too, with the way he stares at me fearfully, from my untameable locks of hair, to my darkest laugh.
People hate and admire me; they think I'm weird, but genius. And I have no doubts I have some type of talent. So why can't I win against a ten-year-old boy? And not just any boy. He's not exactly an A+ student. He leaves that to his sister. So it should be easy enough to kill him.
All I can do is work out why he thwarts my every plan. I admit, my framing of Krusty wasn't a five-star crime. It was early days, and I did a few things Krusty wouldn't have done. But it was those clown shoes that was my real downfall. Next time I got out, it was absolutely not my fault. Bart was watching my every move! How was I to know he'd work out my very elaborate and careful plan. But my only mistake that I believe led to my downfall was reacting so intensely about the fireplace.
But why do I want to think about this, you may ask. Well, I don't. I ask it every day, why can't I stop thinking about him? But the answer I always get is just a whisper in my mind: Because you miss him. And why I wish I could deny it, I can't deny the words in my mind: I hate Bart Simpson with all my heart and mind. But in a strange way that I cannot understand, I miss him even more.