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Drip…Drip... 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 premeditated murder. I don't deny this, but…but... They don't know the whole story. No one does, and I can't simply die without anyone knowing. So I decided to write it down and give it to Blackwell, a CO who watches us in here.
 
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 didn't matter to me, though, because of her.
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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 you're growing up without activity or loved ones, you pick up strange habits). Eventually, I peered out of the open window of the rear wall, and saw her staring at me.
 
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 liked…liked... I couldn't quiet that girl if I tried. She avoided telling me her name, though. In return, I never told her mine, and we visited each other sporadically for the next few months. I never learned her name.
 
Then the Nylo's came. If you don't already know, they're a gang that started out near my home, and made their money off of prostitution and child labor. They made everything harder on us, raiding our orphanage for supplies and money and the like, and we ended up having to pay them, just so we wouldn't be killed. That didn't stop them from taking some of us, though. Most of my brothers were taken, including the girl.
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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 didn't let him die. That would have been too much of a blessing. I wrapped him up with his two friends and sent them back, just like Remy. That girl's head was sent back to me in retaliation. I cooked it for dinner and moved on.
 
Eventually, the police got me. It was only a matter of time, but…but... I had fun while it lasted. After all, that girl is with me forever, isn't she? And the Nylo's won't mess the orphanage again. Injection doesn't seem so bad, now that I think about it. Those thugs had a worse fate than me, after all.
[[Category:Deletion Log Refugees]]
[[Category:Bad Creepypasta]]
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