"Mom started looking at me differently from that day.

I remember it like the back of my hand. The memory is still very vivid.

I cut Jack open.

Jack loved to eat... a lot.

And I'd always been curious about why.

So that day, I fed Jack more than usual. Then I wanted to see where all that food went.

So I did.

I ran inside to call Mommy and show her what I'd discovered.

She looked at me differently that day.

Like she was...

scared.

I didn't understand why.

I just wanted to know where all the food went.

Well, I learnt a valuable lesson that day.

"Not everyone would be comfortable with what you do"

Mommy cleaned everything up, buried Jack somewhere, apologized to the neighbours and told them she'd accidentally hit the dog.

Then paid them off to make sure it gets buried.

Dad didn't say anything when he got back.

He just came into my room that night while I was playing games.

He stared at me.

For a long time.

Then he walked out.

After that, they started taking me to therapy.

Lots of therapy.

I hated it.

Those dullards were always trying to pry into my brain, asking me questions that made absolutely no sense.

I barely said anything to any of them.

Years went by like that.

Then one day, I finally lost my patience with one of them.

She was terrified.

I was 14 I guess 

I threatened her

I held her by her neck and squeezed so hard I felt her vein pick up speed, it was satisfying seeing the way blood flooded her eyes and she was gasping for breath.

It was so pretty 

I want to see more of that 

I need to see more of that 

I said a lot of gibberish about threatening to ruin her and her entire career if she ever mentioned that to anyone, 

Well she slammed me with

Personality disorder.

And a bunch of other words I couldn't be bothered to remember.

That was the last time I saw her.

My dad has money.

A lot of it.

So, of course, she knew better than to cross us.

Eventually, I told Mom I'd behave if she stopped the therapy.

She agreed.

At least, I thought she did...."

I stopped talking and turned to her

---

"What are you trying to do?"

I smiled adjusting to face her properly.

"Come on, pretty girl. Do you really think you can escape me?"

She kept crawling toward the door, desperately trying to get away.

Trails of blood followed making a mess all over.

Looks like I'll be doing a lot of cleaning.

I watched.

I had been trying to entertain her.

And now she was running away from me?

Funny.

Now They always say I lack humour.

I leaned back and watched her struggle toward the entrance.

"Run, pretty girl."

I grinned.

"Let's see how far you can get and who knows I might actually let you live"

This might not be boring after all....