Chapter 9: Second Murder
Weeks have passed since that man attacked me on the street, or since I attacked him.
I was going crazy, I had to have been. Unless I was watching a gory movie, or drawing violent pictures, I felt sick. Legitimate sick, not some petty excuse for sick.
When I was at school, this guy named David kept messing with me. When I was at my locker, he slammed it shut before I was done. He knocked my books out of my hands, and he kept making fun of me.
When school was over, I found him walking home alone.
I began to follow him.
I found a rusty, metal pipe on the sidewalk, so I picked it up, and continued following David.
When I was close, and no one was around, I smashed his skull with it.
He fell to the ground and began shaking.
There was foam, and blood coming out of his mouth.
He was bleeding out of the back of his head.
I struck him again.
And again.
And again.
I hit him about twenty eight times until I decided to stop.
When I was done, he had no head.
It was a pile of slop, bloody, bloody slop.
He looked like a pumpkin when you smash it with a baseball bat.
There was blood every where.
I dropped the pipe in a near by creek, and went back to my house.
When I got home, I began to laugh.
I was laughing hysterically, I couldn't stop.
Nothing was funny. I knew now that I was insane.
Later, I went into my mom's room when she was at work to get a pony tail for work.
In the top drawer of her dresser, I noticed the mask I had received in the mail.
I felt an urge to grab it.