When I was younger. Everything was perfect. My grades, my friends, my relationship with my mom… but when I turned 9 everything changed. My mom got a boyfriend, his name was rick ives. He was cool, at first. He was nice, at first, and he was attracticve, at first. But as the weeks turned into monthes. I soon realized that their relationship was getting more heated, more intense. And the one between my mom and i…soon became withering and distant. Then they got married. Its his fault… I know it is. Who elses fault would it be? Mine? Hell no. he took my mom away from me. He turned her into some psychotic bitch, who demands nothing but respect, but but gives none of it.

Most poeple laugh, and just say “oh, youre just over reacting.” Or “youre just being too negaitve. He’ll grow on ya.” Those fuckers have no clue, on how much im about to overreact. Ive already stated planning it. Maybe ill use a cooking pan. He always made me wash those damn dishes. Maybe ill use lidocane and a needle to numb him just enough for paralisys..but not enough to stop feeling. I slice his body all over with a razor, then dip him in bleach, or alcohol.

Think im demented? YOU think IM demented? Well fuck you. Its isnt my fault im like this. My shrink says it’s a “personality disorder”. What the fuck ever. I don’t care what desease, or disorder, or problem I have. All I know…is that im going to kill the man who ruined my life.

I didnt even get to the bad shit yet. You know what he did to poor little old me? He raped me, damn it! He took his little fucking dick, and shoved right up the place where all little girls keep there TRUE innocence. He took MY virginty. Something that I wanted to save for someone who cared about me. It just hurts…so now I’m gunna hurt HIM and make him watch me do it. My name is spencer carlin, and I think I need help.

3 years earlier.

“get the fuck back here!” his voice screamed through the house. It shook the walls, its rattled the glass of the china cabinent, and it cramped my insides. Fear raked though my entirety as I stand in the doorway to my room. I knew I couldn’t hide from him. But running seemed like only rational option.