I liked the dark it was my favorite place to write. Writing in the dark was a passon of mine. It was soothing to me. Like warm hot chocolate on a cold winter day. Looking at my desk piles of letters littered my modern glass desk. Splotches of ink-stained my desk with empty pens rolling around. I wrote all kinds of things. Letters, poems, and stories of crime only a monster would be able to make. My favorite thing to write was cryptic letters. The Zodiac killer the infamous killers of the early 60s and the early 70s was my idol. His cryptic letters that no one is able to undo. Inspired me to write like him. He was an icon to me. I grabbed my black trench coat and simple grey jacket and headed out the door, walking in the crisp autumn air. “Did …show more content…
Face pale like she was sick eyes focused on the dirty old floors. Rubbing her back I dared to ask. "Who was he?" Aleina looked at me with eyes filled with pain and disbelief tears streamed down her eyes. "David Price and his twin Jason. They say it was suicide." Aleina handed me their suicide letters. Looking at the cryptic symbols that lined the letters. The bold lettering haunted me. Hands shaking like an earthquake, drips of coffee splashed on my skin burning it, but I didn’t care, the names of the victims sparked something in me. It wasn’t suicide, but the work of the evil man. The horrid events of the killings lingered. The evil man decorated with red, and the demonic voices of the victims screaming for mercy and freedom. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She hurried next to me grabbing my shoulder trying to make me stable. Gently she guided me to my office stumbling on my office chair. “Aleina, get out.” She looked at me with her caring hazel green eyes, but I saw pity, pure pity. It disgusted me “Kill her, kill her” they chanted. The voices only got louder “Kill her she pities …show more content…
Pushing me into the mud staining my khaki pants and white top. I sat there in the cold mud, letting them tease me and call me names. “Maybe that’s why you’re mom died, she couldn’t stand seeing a mutt like you.” A group of children giggled as their so-called ringleader the Price brothers threw rice grains and Twinkie wrappers at me, I was their laughingstock, their source of entertainment. I hated it, their looks disgusted me, but I couldn't fight back. For the man with a kind heart stopped me. Walking home was a nightmare the old and the new looked at me with their glares. At home was the real hell the smell of strong liquor filled my nose and the house. Opening the master bedroom, I saw my father drunk with a picture of my mother in her home country where she belonged. He was always silent, and he never left the cold master bedroom filled with memories of my mother. Crying I walked outside to the playground, with children who would always mock me, but I got used to it. Hearing little kids snicker about me as I walked, letting their voices change me and the way I acted. As I walked deeper into the playground a gang of kids surrounded me their teases and violence was nothing new, but today was different I let the evil man control me completely. That day I vowed to end them