ByBrandon Erickson, writer at
  • You wanna know how I got these scars?

It was a day like this, bright and sunny when the family's were outside, enjoying each other, peaceful as the flowers had the smell of fresh and the birds roamed around. But me, no not me. I was in my house. Locked up in my room. My father, he had a mental problem, he laughed at disgusting things that was so gory that no one wanted to clean up after. He had the issue to make inappropriate jokes at inappropriate times. It happened when my mother passed away, he couldn't handle that pay so he came up with that issue. But after awhile he drank himself to get rid of that pain, so he would come in my room and molest me. He would laugh and I would cry, and he'd always say, why so serious?! After awhile I got use to this pain, I started to draw demented things, and I hated my father so much I would write disgusting thoughts in my head, like how many ways I could kill him, should I use his knife, and cut his nuts off, as he cried in agony questioning why he deserved this. I would cut, tear, and pull apart his testicals. Watch him cry, losing his man hood, or just tear his wrists up with his knife, and as he starts to get up, break his legs with his hammer. And watch him die, with my own two eyes. But by the age of 18 he came into my room, trying to molest me again, and I cried he said I'm going to put a smile on that face! After he did so, I took his knife an cut his throat out, as soon as I did that, I took his blood and bathed in it, I laughed, and laughed, until the cops came the next day. The diagnosed me a few months later with the same mental issue he had.


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