What Do You Know About Me?

I look left, then I look right, before I jam my scissors down his throat. For all of the times he neglected me and pretended to be my friend, this has all but made up for his bull shit.

I drown out the struggling gurgle with my turntable turned to the highest level. The neighbors will think I'm practicing my set list again and undoubtedly call the landlord to complain, but by the time I end this assholes life I will have cleaned up the apartment immaculately and moved on with life.

Things didn't always seem this violent. We used to be roommates in the trendiest part of town. I was naive and quiet while he was out, loud, and proud. I never hurt a fly before, except for the occasional mosquito whose death always fascinated me. I loved watching the blood it had drained spatter across my skin and run down my arm. Sometimes the residue was minimal, but still, it was a sight.

Now this helpless maggot lie bleeding at my feet like a pig at the slaughter house begging for its life. I didn't find it disturbing at all.

Don't get me wrong, it was a sad sight, but something about his death empowered me.

Believe me, I'm not the kind of person to impulsively black out or lapse into a split personality. I'd say I'm rather healthy, fit, and normal.

As I got older I started to realize that there are two types of people. The type that step up, and the type that shut up.

I am neither.

I believe in a fair fight and if you're not going to back up your actions then you have to be stopped.

There are so many people in this world that spout lies, corruption, and misleading facts that taint a dreamers world. Instead of putting up with how shitty things are, I have solemnly sworn to better it.

There's nothing worse than empty promises.

Before you lash your hateful tongue on others because they speak their opinions, let them express themselves then express back.

In this kids case, he was a spiteful little shit who fell into negativity. He literally had nothing good to say and with that I rid him of his hateful existence.

Really, he's better off.

There will always be another one just like him, but in praise of the homicidal handbook, there is a distinguished guideline outlining the type of people you can kill and can't.

Lucky for me, this asshole fit the bill for the entire checklist.

R.I.P
JDC

May your eternal agony be put at ease.

Damn, I got some blood on my shirt...