It's Not Real

Hello... my name isn't important... but what I do is. I'm a killer. I've killed for at least a year. I can't stop... it's exhilarating, seeing someone dead. The feeling of excitement just rushes over me. Picking a victim is fun too. Though, no matter who I pick, they never fight back. I wonder why...

It seems so odd. They just sit there... doing nothing, while I kill them. Do I intimidate them? Or is it something more...? Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. Because when I kill, I know I'm in control. Hell, I'm a God!

Or... was, a God. Until a simple sentence broke my dream world... when my mom told me: "Jimmy, stop playing with your dolls. It's not real life."

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