Yes, i know what you're thinking: "You counted all those days?" Fuck yeah i counted. This...Place...Sometimes i wish they kept me in that institution. At least i had a window...and there were some women and the food didn't taste like fermented herring dipped in cat piss. As the days slowly dissipate one..by FUCKING one...i often find myself wondering how the world still spins around me when I'm forever stuck in this still, bleak, gray, cold and stony room. Having all this time to think...it makes me wonder. When was the last time i killed...it's been exactly a year to the day that I've been in this piece of shit prison cell. I can't even remember how many people i killed. I'm now 19 years old, serving a life sentence. Heh, I say i lived a good life. Then again, what can be described as a good life? Who, no, What defines a "good life"? A life of good deeds and happiness? A life of fucking...friends, sugar and rainbows? Fuck that! I started killing at 17 years old. I still remember my first victim; Chris Bateman, i still remember that thrill of stabbing him in the gut, it felt like a water balloon popping as his guts spilled out unto the forest ground. I remember the short lived panic as his blood oozed out of his body and enveloped my feet like as if opening a portal to hell, Oh! and the excitement as me and Almasy... watched as his helpless body squirmed and writhed. And that final blow: The stab into the eye, The blood bubbling and gushing out around my blade. Ah...yes...i lived not like most but simply as my mind told me to live. I've been called insane, demented, twisted you name it. I claimed the insanity defense and still i get a life sentence. I think they were, no, are all scared of me. I still remember those stares i got in the court room. Eyes watery and full of fear and antipathy. Prison hasn't made my life any easier when i first got here i was almost beaten to death by a couple of the family members of Bateman. I got out with a broken leg, arm, jaw and now my face is forever scarred with the cuts of their homemade dirk. As the year passed and people began to hear more about me i got less of a hassle. Then was this one guy who wanted to test his luck and see who this "Dangerous killer" truly was. I killed him. Gouged his eyes out, bite a chunk out of his neck. Since then I've been stuck in Solitary Confinement. I'm here in this one section of jail, all by myself. I actually rather like it. The long dark, dimly lit hall, the constant pitter patter of guards patrolling back and forth became my new lullaby.
It's execution day. I'm awake pretty early. I have time before the guards whisk me away to that bleak, metal death trap. Ha ha ha...it's funny. In a way i'm happy. People see that chair and think it's a death trap. Me? I see it as personal salvation: Death...is rest for the soul. Looking up at the ceiling, which became my new sky...it provokes many thoughts, how this all started..your probably begging me to tell you that tale aren't you? Just close your eyes and listen to my story.
It was dark, and the wind howled horribly around me. I looked at one side of the street, yellow street lights pierced the fog. I turned the other way and spit out my gum in the street as another car zoomed by and ran over my gum.
"Ha ha" i laughed.
The thought of gum sticking to the tires amused me i guess. I looked to the sky and the wind blew more fiercly. My hair, as if it had a mind of its own flailed wildy . I quickly got a rubber band and tied my hair in a pony tail. I zipped up my jacket and looked up to the sky again.
"Joey" i heard.
I quickly look around, I saw nothing, no one. I was alone in this fog of war. I began to pace back and forth, debating on what to do. I don't know what got into me by i decided to take a left on wool wine road and visit this old burnt down house. As i stepped onto the grass. I carefully looked around the house. The house was still in pretty good shaped but obviously charred. The door was partially open.
"Jooooooeeeeyyy" the voice said as if taunting me.
I got much more tense now. I began to shake as i approached the stoop. I walked up the steps. One by one my body getting more tense with each step. I approached the door and took a deep breathe when suddenly i heard the heavy diesel engine of what sounded like a bus.
"Oh shit!" i said aloud.
I quickly made it out the the charred house premises and speed toward the bus stop when i tripped.
"Damn it!" i i exclaimed.
I got back up and limped back to the bus stop when i saw a yellow blur in the distance. I had missed the bus. AGAIN.