My parents died in a fire.That's what everybody think anyway. This isn't about them this is about my adopteive parents.They took me in when i was 9, I hated them as soon as i saw them.
They are so passive they dont react to anything i do. I pushed Millis (Mother) down the stairs just to get a real reaction out of her......nothing. I was so sick of it, i had to do it.....i had to do what i did to my parents.It wasnt as easy this time as Millis was always cheking in on me.I decided dying by a fire was too kind for them sure they had done nothing bad to me........they were more of a nuisance. It was 1:43 A.M when i got the Butcher Knife from the kitchen i killed their 2 year old daughter first,then their 8 year old son,i was surprised they didnt awake to the noise their son was actually quite loud.It wasn't as hard to kill them as i thought it would be.I guess people are right you shouldn't run with knifes because the next thing i knew i tripped down the stairs sending the knife right through my lungs. I died that night.Just when i tought it was all over I woke up in a nice little antique shop, and realized it extremely hard to move my body almost impossible it just felt so heavy.Thats when i saw her a little girl walking up to me "mommy look a doll, can i have it pleas" "hmmm it doesnt look too expensive" said the older woman."All right ,but you have to clean your room when we get home"
The little girl was filled with joy on that car ride home squeezing me hard.Guess i had to do it again.......guess it never ends.