A Convict's Recollection: Difference between revisions
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(Created page with "Drip… Drip… Drip. That damn sound of leaking water has plagued me ever since I became stuck in this place. I understand that they can’t make a place like this perfect, but still, I think I at least deserve some peace. Anyway, I wanted to write down my thoughts, seeing as I won’t be able to tell anyone about it soon. I won’t be able to tell anyone anything, actually. I’m a convict on Death Row, awaiting execution via lethal injection. I was convicted of preme...") |
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It started six months ago, in eastern Seattle. I always lived there, in ghettos or some such place, because I orphaned as a child. Nobody wants a kid in a place like that, so I was never adopted and was kicked out to live on my own when I was 12. That
We met when I was still in the orphanage (I think I was five), and we became friends under strange circumstances. I had been playing in the attic, as I usually was, taking apart spiders I happened to find (You may think it was sick, but when
I freaked out. Our orphanage was separated by gender, so seeing a girl was a rare occurrence to me. She laughed a bit, and called me over, to which I obliged. After slinking over, she began to tell me her story, who she was, and what she
Then the
I was heartbroken. The girl was the one thing that made my life less of a hell, and they took her away. I was as weak and powerless as any of the other kids, though, so there was nothing I could do aside from bawling on the windowsill. When they let me go to live my life, I was nearly catatonic because of everything I had been through. But I lived. I got a job and a nice home, considering.
The
It started with Remy, the guy who first came to rob me. I cornered him and smashed his skull in with a cinderblock. It was just like a spider, I thought. The limbs limp, and blood splattering everywhere. I wrapped him up in a tarp and sent him back to their main building.
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Nothing happened until three more men broke down my door and stormed my house three weeks later. I had planned for it though. I led one off into the farthest hallway in the building, and slit his throat with a snapped piece of piping. The second was put down much easier, begging me not to kill him after seeing his friend.
It
I hit his spine, crippling him from his midsection down. I pulled him back into my house, while he cried the entire way. I would have pitied him. But why should I have?
So I laid him on the living room table, and grabbed a hacksaw from my shed. I remember the screams he made as I cut through his limbs, one by one. Oh, but I
Eventually, the police got me. It was only a matter of time,
[[Category:Deletion Log Refugees]]
[[Category:Bad Creepypasta]]
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