I was re-reading some old stuff and wow, this really had an impact on me, so I decided to repost it. I’m 18 now, but I didn’t edit any of what I wrote before, so it is still in its original state, heh heh. Tell me what you think!! I gotta know. lol

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Because this is not a real letter and comes directly from my thoughts, this is nothing near a suicide letter, nor am I suicidal, don’t worry, no one is dead (not by my hands). To further push that this is not real, I am putting a date that goes far beyond my years. BTW, i’m 17. Leave me be. Thx.

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I figured, just before I take my life, I should let everyone know exactly what happened on that fateful day. This letter will clear everything, no more shadows, no more skeletons.

August 18, 1854

I was taking an afternoon walk with my girlfriend, as usual. She talks about everything that happened to her in her life, I smiled and listened. Today, however, was completely different from other days. I met a man with the face of a killer. He looked like he was prepared to take another life. But, surprisingly, we had very much in common. We became immediate friends. But I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do.

Earlier that day, I saw my girlfriend kiss another woman. That was the first time I harmed a woman. Actually, I killed her. I slit her throat and grinned as she drowned in a pool of her own blood. Of course, my girlfriend didn’t know that. I waited for her to leave.

And so, my girlfriend told me about her day, I smiled and listened. She said nothing about another woman.

We got to her house and she kissed me goodnight. I had a feeling of disgust, knowing that she would knowingly kiss my lips after tongue-dancing in some other woman’s mouth. I pushed her off of me, but I pushed too hard. She tripped and her head hit the pavement. She died on her doorstep. For some reason, I didn’t really care. I felt dead inside today, I didn’t feel at all different. Actually, it was then that I met the man. He saw what happened, but he didn’t react at all. Seeing him so calm made me grow frightened. Not of him, but of what I had done. As if his eyes showed me what kind of trouble I was in. He told me to come with him, so I did. He walked to a couple of police officers. I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn’t allow it. I continued to walk. He told them that I killed someone. They looked at me and back at him. They pulled their night sticks and both caught the end of this man’s blade. He killed them both. Then he ran away. At that moment, I was confused… but I suddenly learned how to run. I bolted in the general direction of this new friend of mine and found him, two blocks down the road, crying. I learned to cry. Then he walked to a pawn shop and stole a gun, stood in front of me, and shot himself.

I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to learn how to die. I ran. I ran as fast as I could, turning every corner until i wound up lost. Then I realized something. I killed two people tonight. I was seen with a man by God-knows-who, who is dead, along with two officers. The life I built in 34 years was destroyed in a day.

And here I am, wondering how I should take myself from this world. with a loaded revolver in hand, I play Russian Roulette with myself. I’ve pulled 5 times. The next pull will take me out. To the world that birthed me to the item that takes me out, I thank all of you. Thank you for teaching me how to kill. This world is no more than a place 2 floors above the stairway to Hell. But fear not. I will not miss any of you. Because when the next unlucky soul is confused, I will return. I will teach him how to run. How to cry. How to die. He will not have to contemplate his moves at all. I will teach him. I promise.

Signed,

Wilshir D. Lucifero