I murdered a whole family.
In 2008 I was in a bad place and drinking alot. I started to go out at night driving around the suburbs on the West side of the city. I slung along dimly lit streets and looked over low fences and spied the people in their houses watching television eating or stoned or zonked on the couch asleep, maybe a kid still awake in the corner of the room.
Yes I was zeroing in on disorder, on easy prey. I was hunting. I knew what I was doing but I never knew I would carry through with it. I never knew I would buy the rope I picked up at the hardware store. I never thought I would open the laundry door when I got to it and enter the M*****’s home. I never thought I would be to overpower so easily two adults and subdue three children. All in all it took me under 10 minutes to knock the lot of them off, the mother and father and the three kids, the last I kept for some good old s*** time before I stopped her little windpipe just as I ejaculated.
I don’t feel guilty, because what’s done is done. My being punished for my actions would not make the world a better place. If I was still a danger to society, then maybe it would be a good idea to put me in prison, but I don’t think I’ll do another rampage murder or murder again, not likely. Although I’m not promising that I’m not going to continue to kill off the old prostitute. That’s just what happens when they get crazy in my hands.
So all in all its been good to get that off my chest.