Saturday, January 24, 2004

   Sounds about right

You'd carve them up with your chainsaw. I like your
style, you show much promise. Join me?


How would you Murder?
brought to you by Quizilla

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Thursday, January 22, 2004

   Thinking.....
.....I haven't done much lately.....yep......yep....*runs away*
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click on it
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Wednesday, January 21, 2004

   Page theme
So which theme is better? This one or the blood and roses?
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Tuesday, January 20, 2004

Punctutation
i find it and capitalization missing from a lot of my post i must have lost it somewhere
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i'm bored i should be doing my latin and my projects oh well si la vie
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   Talking to myself
I find myself frequently talking to myself. Does this make me crazy?
Or is it a sad cry for attention?
But how can it be a cry for attention when I liked not being noticed?
I take pride in the fact that I can walk into my classes and stay for ten minutes and leave and the teacher doesn't notice I'm gone.
But what does that say about me?
I talk to me to keep myself company. I really don't want to take the time to interface with people unless through a screen or phone.
But what is it that compels me not to want to interface with others?
It's the simple fact that they bore me. I'm disgusted on how they put such an emphasis on something that means nothing. My the majority of my race cares about nothing that is worth something. In return because I don't feel this way I'm treated differently and I cast myself out into the void that is my mind. So I'm left with nothing else but myself. I'm alone even when I'm surround by people. I feel uneasy when spoken to if I normally don't interact with you. But if I talked to online I might find that we are two of a kind. And yet I still have to talk to myself. The voices in my head keep me company and they never mock me. No matter what I do know I can always talk to myself and not be scared. So I find myself frequently talking to myself. Does this make me crazy? I think not. It helps me keep the little sanity that I have left.
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Monday, January 19, 2004

   Sad
Only three people have commented on my story. I sad. Well at least they liked it. Little do people know it's based on a true story. I actually did most of that stuff. The only made up parts are how deep I cut my finger and the dying part. Although if people knew that they might think I'm crazy. Hehe.
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Saturday, January 17, 2004

   The Death of a Hated One
"Harkeem stop bothering me!",I screamed.
"No," he replied back.

"Leave me the fuck alone, or I'll kill you."

"That's what you always say;you ain't gonna do shit."

"Keep on bothering me and I'm going to kill you. Momma not coming home until 7 in the morning. So nobody can save you if you keep bothering me."

Despite my warnings he kept on bothering me. He keep calling my name over and over and over. He kept making noises and bouncing balls. Finally I couldn't take it so I snapped. He always bothers so I kept a butcher knife in the closet to scare him away. I went to the closet and got the knife. I started to chase him with it. This was always a regular scene in my house so by now he had learned I was only bluffing, but this time was different. The events all played out in my mind. I'd kill him. So what if murdering him would end the perfect life I had planned. But it would be worth it. I'd plead temporary insanity, which wasn't far from the truth. He intentionally annoys me. I hate that. So I decided I'd do it. I'd kill him.

"Man put that knife down. Stop playing. Man stop playing. I'm going to tell momma," he yelled.

"I'd told you nobody can save you. I told you to stop bothering me, but no...... you wouldn't listen!"

"I'm sorry. I won't do it no more I promise."

"Ha! That's what you always say."

"I really mean it this time."

At that point I truely lost it. I took the knife and cut my finger. I let him see the blood drip from it. I put the bleeding finger in my mouth and said," Now it's your turn." I chased him around the house going up and down stairs. I toyed with him because I knew he'd soon grow tired. Eventually the chase became boring so I tackled him down to the floor and I begin to choke him. I loved the way his eyes got all red and watery. The tighter I held his neck the more his eyes seemed to bulge out of his skull. Then he started to have an asthma attack. Perfect timing in my eyes.

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe. Get off of me. I need my asthma pump."

"Ok, where's your asthma pump? I'll get it for you"

"It's right on the bed."

I got up and got the asthma pump, because I knew he couldn't move. I stood over him and dangled the pump in his face. He tried to reach for it ,but he couldn't get it. I removed the cap and started to spray the medicine in the air.

"Oops, all gone."

I then gave him the pump and watched as he shook on the floor holding it. After about a minute he had stop moving. He was dead.

He's dead. Dead. I finally did it. I killed him. I killed my thirteen year old brother. I thought to myself. I put the knife in the kitchen sink and went back downstairs. I then finished playing my games on Neopets.

The End

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