PapercutPapercutPapercut by Blacklio
I was twelve. The day was february twentyeighth. I started to draw and in a while I hurt my finger. It was bleeding. I took my finger into my mouth and started sucking the blood off. It didn't stop. Blood just bleed and suddenly I felt like I was drinking it. It felt so good that I didn't stop. This had happened before but I really didn't taste the blood. It was gone before I could even notice it in my mouth.
From that day on, everytime I was thursty I made a cut on my skin and drank the blood. Blood was like a drug to me. My own special drug.
Monologue"I could tell you that I do this because I'm insane, because God is in my head, because I go about my business with a thousand avenging angels conducting a symphony of holy amorality, directing my every move. Because organized crime killed my father, raped my mother, and tortured my sister, and that they had all this coming to them. That I do this because I like it; because I like to kill, and that I'm no more alive than when I stand there looking down on them, willing the light to go out of their life, staring down at their eyes so that I can watch--so that I can feel them die. Because I revel in it. Because I'm lost. Because I wasn't breast-fed or because society wouldn't have me or that I was abused, scorned and hated. That life was cruel and God disowned me.Monologue by beyondsalvage
That I never watched a violent movie in my life and that my parents protected me and nurtured me too much, and when I saw
Bambi's mom get murdered in cold blood, it unhinged my mind. That Disney walked away with my soul and tha