Scary Story

Here's a scary story I wrote this summer as an extra thing for English.

Dear Brother,

I have made a grave mistake. I know we have talked countless times of my twisted past, how I crave the sight of blood and how I love the sight of death. I am writing to you because... I... well I-- I have broken our pact. Killing mom was an accident, you know that! It was years ago! Didn't I promise I wouldn’t do anything like that again? I am so terribly sorry, for I fear I have broken the trust which runs between us yet again. I dreaded the day when I would say these heart-wrenching words again, but for the sake of your knowledge and my safety, I must. Dear, beloved brother, I have committed the gravest sin of all. I have taken the life of a child.

Oh, please believe me—it was not a planned act! I tried and tried to keep our promise, brother, but the bloodthirsty monster inside of me consumed my conscience and took over. I had a good reason, as well! Oh yes. This child had many flaws, oh, God, too many to count, innumerable! He talked like a fool, and he was just so... awkward! I always said hello, good morning, but that idiot never bothered to reply! After I said one word, he just ran into his home. I know I have a “mental disorder”, according to you, but I’m just more observant than others. I think Samuel was like me. Samuel is the name of the child I murdered. Heh heh. It is a funny subject, because, ironically, killing again made me feel so alive and free. Remember those days, brother? I wanted to move to the big city, but you said I was too “unstable”. I used to not know what that word meant, but now I do, hee hee! Unstable: adjective. Not stable; not firm or firmly fixed; unsteady. Are you proud yet? That was always my goal, to be like you and to make you proud. You were just like mom…I do not think she left, though. Oh wait, I killed her. Heehee. That is quite funny.

But I digress! Samuel was quiet. He seemed like a nice kid, for the most part. He was about eleven years old. I wanted to learn about him more, so I crept into his room one night and watched him. Unfortunately he awoke and I... well... I did what I do best! I did what had to be done! If he screamed, then his parents may have rushed into his room and seen me and they might have accused me of doing bad things to their child. I could not risk this. So I took out my ruby-encrusted Persian dagger (a gift from you, oh thank you, oh it's so shiny and sharp and beautiful) and made a gorgeous crimson river flow from his neck. Then I remembered you, remembered mom (was it mom? What happened to her again? Oh right) and I felt shame. I was frightened, panicked, so I ran back to my home and now I am writing this letter to you.
The guilt is eating me alive. I cannot sleep. My hand shakes as I write this to you, so I decided that this is the last thing I will ever do. I decided that the only fair thing to do is to have the same fate as my victims, mom and Samuel. I will kill myself. I must. I will have eternal peace of mind, and it is the right thing to do. I love you.

Goodbye, brother.