Author: BelongToYou PM
Her past is dark. Although she sees nothing wrong with what she's done. One-shot. R&RRated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Tragedy - Words: 817 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 07-04-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3038884
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A/N: Hey everyone who actually reads these things! All I'm really looking for is reviews! I don't care if they're good or bad, I just really want to know what you think. Even if you write "It was good" or "I hated it", all opinions are welcome! So please take the two seconds it takes and review, review, review!
All of the other girls in this depressing place have told their violent, bloody pasts time and time again. And now, since I'm the new girl, it's my turn... I turned to the girls and began my morbid, vindictive tale.
You see it all started at home on the farm, I was being trained to be a "lady" coming from one of the most prestigious family's that lives out in that bare land they call the country. But I hated it-hated it with a fiery passion from the lowest levels of hell-even at the young age I was then, it was never destined for me to be like that, to be like the rest of my family.
I was ten when it finally happened, I was put up for adoption, and being smart for my age, I had welcomed it. My real parents had grown tired of my disobeying ways, my constant talking back, so they dropped me off at the orphanage, and thankfully I never saw them again. The hell hole of an orphanage that they dumped me at was almost as bad home, well what I was forced to call home before that is, until on one desolate morning I was finally adopted. Little did I know, but that was when I was found out how bad things could really get.
My adoptive parents were, accommodating enough, they kept food in the house, gave me money so I could be dressed decently, and I had a bed to sleep in that wasn't covered in mold in my own room. The biggest problem I had with them though, they neglected me, I only saw them when they wanted to yell at me for doing something wrong at school. I loathed them, the only other communication I had with them was through notes we left for each other in the kitchen. I had so much hate just bubbling under the surface, waiting for a chance to boil over by the time I was eighteen, a legal adult. I left one night, I couldn't take it anymore so I fled, I never planned on coming back, and I never went back. I simply wandered the streets for hours, and that's when it first happened.
I was walking past a dark, musty, and absolutely foul smelling alley when I heard the yelling, I could distinguish two voices, an older male, and a younger female. Then the screaming started, the young girl was trapped in a corner by the man, who was utterly repulsive. I knew in my very soul that I had to protect the girl, so I did the only thing I could think of, I let out all the anger that had been simmering under the surface, I let it boil over and I lunged gracefully yet oh so aggressively at the mans back. The rest of the memory is just a blur, but one thing I do know is that the girl escaped, and the man is dead.
It was so exhilarating, the rush, the adrenaline, I loved it, I adored it. That night by the time I had cleaned myself up I knew that I had to do it again, it was like a drug to me. I ended up killing four more people, all men of course, with their obnoxious booming laughter, and repulsive motives, all prepared to viciously attack some innocent girl. Just as I was finishing off my last kill the cops found me, caught me red handed, literally. At my trial I was found guilty, and I was glad, I knew I deserved it, and I figured I would be better off in jail then on the streets anyway.
So that's my story, and I advise you to keep away and leave me to myself, unless of course, you want to end up like the rest of them...