THE BOY THAT SHADOWS DEATH
“Beep, beep, beep, beep”, I woke up to the sound of my phone alarm ringing loudly. It was 7am, and the sun was shining in it’s bask of glory. If I had to choose between day or night, I’d choose neither because I’m unnoticeable day and night. Being unnoticeable has its advantages, you can always steal candy from the store without being stopped by anyone. Sneaking into an R-rated film, taking someone’s wallet from a purse, and spying on girls in the gym locker room. But if I had to choose one thing I liked about being unnoticeable, it would be when I be sneaking inside the houses of random people at dead of night and started killing them. A few hours ago, I woke up around 2 in the morning, already sleeping in my all-black clothes ready to go out. I sneaked out of the house trying not to wake my parents up from the noises as quiet as I can be. Then I took my bike and begin riding to find my next victim. About 30 minutes searching , I spotted a house where I wanted to break-in, I circle to the backyard and then got off the bike to use a knife to break the back door open. I succeeded and went straight to the bedroom area from the kitchen. In the first room was a man and a woman sleeping in bed, the second one had an infant that was 1 or 2 years old. And in the last room was a girl that was maybe around my age, sleeping like a prized treasure that was never meant to be discovered or found. And it was that moment I decided she was my prey, I grab the knife from my side and walked up closed up to her neck and cut deeply inside her throat. She woke up from the deep cut and felt excruciating pain in the wake of it. She saw the blood on the bed and was trying to call for help but the excessive loss of blood made her weak and dizzy. And after about 30 seconds, she ceased moving with her eyelids still open as tears still raining down her cheeks. The entire time I was watching in the darkest corner of her room seeing all of it played out, like my own personal movie screening of “Her Last Moments Before Death.” For my own amusement, I rate the movie a 97% at best because I wished she would’ve lasted a minute or two longer before she had died. All in all, killing her was best choice I’ve made and I got to bring home a prize for having a front row seat at her death by my hands. I dived my hands under the pillow and got my prize out, and grab a blue cloth that was containing my gift. I unwrapped it and inside it was that girl’s perfectly blue eyeballs freshly ripped out from her lifeless body. I started the kill people for only a few months now, and I only kill about seven people including that girl from the night. On the third kill, I suffocated an old woman while she was sleeping in her bed. It took great effort holding her off as she was throwing up her arms trying to hit me in the face to scratching my hands with her nails. For these seconds it lasted more like minutes trying to kill her, she finally started to lose strength and I pushed the pillow with great force from my entire body. She finally took her last breath at last, “Damn, that old bitch put up a fight, got me bleeding a little with all that scratching on my arms.” Before I left her house, I wanted to take something for all that effort I put into this kill. I looked around the house but nothing of value that I see was worth taking with me, then I looked down at her hands. Putting my hands on top of them, all cold and deprived of warmth. I knew at that moment I wanted these hands. I looked around the house to find something to cut out these hands and came across a cut hand saw in her garage and proceed to saw off her hands. At that moment I felt a surge of happiness, smiling as I was sawing her limbs off. A joy in taking the pleasure of taking a person’s life by my hands alone. Ever since I was born, I always felt alone in my life. It’s like I’ve been cursed ever since I started to exist, and every attempt to make friends never worked out. At school, the other kids ignore me or bullied me that it deepens the loneliness further inside me. At home I never tell my parents about my sufferings in school, (scoff) like they would care about my social status or if I’m popular or being bullied in school. All they care about was farming tomatoes in the fields and earning a living, so anything about school or my life was second place above all else to these people called “Parents.” In school and at home, I could never be true to myself, which I don’t even know what that is. One night in May, I witnessed something in the woods while I was walking alone as usual, a man was feeling the hole with dirt and a woman inside the hole. I noticed she was dead from the blood running down from the back of her head. With the hole filled up, the man left the woods with his shovel in hand, got into his car and drove off the dirt road. I went to my parent’s old barn and got a shovel and started to digging around where he buried the woman. I uncovered her whole body, laying there like a long-lost puppet that was in the attic for many years. I started to touch the spot on the head where the blood was running earlier and see there’s a big gapping hole in the back of the head. What made me get a shovel and dig her out instead of calling the sheriff station? I guess it’s because I wanted her to be my friend, even though she was a lifeless corpse. I got her body up midway and begin to hug her, as tears rolled down from my eyes as a sign of having a wish granted. As soon as I got dressed, I walk downstairs and heard the news on TV from the living room. “This morning, 12-year-old Samantha Green was murdered in her home last night. The cause of death was apparently from being slit in the throat. And strangest thing about the murder is that she was the only one killed in the home while the other family members were spared. And just like in four of the other bizarre murders, she also lost one of her limbs that was taken from the killer making her the 5th victim murdered these past few months. We’ll bring more news about this murder as we get updates, now bac-.” My mother cut off the TV and shook her head at a senseless murder of a young girl. “What is this world coming too?” she said to herself while getting up from the couch. “Are you hungry, Tyler?” My mother asks. “I’ll just have an apple and then head to school, mom.” I reply. After eating a light breakfast, I headed on to school but first I had to meet my friend and tell her about another one of my killings that happen last night. And the amazing gift I received from seeing such a magnificent show right before my eyes. Last may after I dug up my new friend, I decided to move her corpse into my parent’s old barn, I had to wait at night without attracting too much attention. I loaded her body inside a rusty panel wagon and started dragging it to the barn, I was lucky it wasn’t as far as my house or I would’ve just leaved the corpse buried. I arrived at the old barn, panting from dragging and covered in cold sweat. I pulled the wagon further inside and loaded her into an old rocking chair that’s been there since my grandparent’s time. She looked so peaceful and gentle in that rocking chair that it was hard to imagine that she’s just a lifeless body just sitting there. At times when I came to the barn, I would play a game “How to Kill a Person?” I invented with my friend and each time was just as fun a the other day. I enjoyed using both of my hand to choke her tightly, repeatedly punching her in the face till my knuckles started to hurt, and stabbing her with a hunting knife either in the heart or clit her throat. After weeks of trying out all these ways to kill a person, I wanted to try it on a living person and put my skills to the test. In the following week, I killed someone for the first time, it was a drunk man walking home in a dark alleyway, when I approached him, I stabbed him several times me in the abdomen. It took about 5 minutes for the man to finally die from bleeding out, as I watched I didn’t get the thrill of killing this person, nothing at all. I wasn’t going to get the thrill of it until I’ve met my 3rd kill and got something out of it. “After seeing her beautiful blue eyes, I knew I had to get them. um-hum, it was the first time ever taking eyeballs off a dead body. There was so much blood that splatter on the bed after prying them eyes out that the whole cover was velvet now.” I was taking to my friend, telling her about the details of last night’s kill. “Huh? Why didn’t I kill the rest of the family in that house? Getting these eyes were more than enough to satisfy my thirst to kill, and killing the rest of them would have tarnished these beautiful gifted blue eyes.” I replied. I know she could never respond back, but it was nice to have somebody (being dead) to talk too about all of this. For months she’s been deteriorating, looking more like a mummified zombie as time passes by sitting in that rocking chair. Then I grab a shovel and started digging right in front of her, and inside the hole were other gifts I’ve gotten from four of my other killings. Inside were hands, a right ear, a nose, and a finger with a ring still attached on it and now blue eyes to add to my collection. After burying the hole back up, I hugged my friend like I always done before heading out. “I can’t wait to tell you about my next kill.” I left the barn, smiling in excitement about what the next gift I’ll receive from my next victim will be.