Chained Fury

The Murder

High School for me had always been a struggle. I struggled with finding new friends and new interests. I was seen as an outcast, and tossed in the trash by my fellow classmates. I was even called mean names such as "Barf-olomew" or taunt me with "Hey Bartholomew, how do you feel about the nickname 'Barfy'?", sniggering afterwards. One day, I punched one of the kids that frequently bullied me in the mouth, which sent him into the hospital. Everyone knew from then on out, nobody should mess with the Woodrows, for if one did, they rumored you would be plagued with bad luck for the rest of your life.

The day after I graduated was a happy day for me, and my family. They were glad for me because they saw me getting a wonderful career, except for my father. Even as a mature young man I was abused, an I couldn't take it. I wished he would die. And it turns out, he did.

One morning I came home from College, and said goodbye to my family, but my father was unamused. It seemed like he was disappointed in me, always. He'd always say " You're such a bitch now compared to when you were born" or "Why is your mother always supportive of you? You're nothing but a whiny whore." The night I came home, I didn't hear my father complaining, this made me strangely worried. Then, I saw blood. Miles and miles of crimson blood trailing from the kitchen to the living room. I followed it, and gasped in shock. There lay the body of my father, his eyes bloodshot, his mouth bloodied with a sharp kitchen knife impaling his chest. He was stabbed multiple times, but he was still breathing. I grabbed the knife from his chest and stabbed it into his chest. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. I laughed slightly. STAB! The breathing stopped. Blood covered my face, as I licked the blood from my fingertips, laughing with glee. It felt so good to do that to my father, he was such a bitch to me. I chuckled softly, taunting with the knife. I had this... Almost gleaming look in my eyes. Like the gleam of the devil.... I looked down into the corpses' bloodshot eyes, and poked one of the dilated pupils.

"You really shouldn't have abused me father... Now I'm going to abuse you... Let's see what I can do here..." I took the knife and put it under his eyelid. Soon enough, his left eye had popped out of it's socket, sploshing blood all over me. I snapped the eyeball from the long intestine that held it and played with the eyeball like a real ball. I threw it into the backyard. I started to laugh maniacally, this was like, my hobby! My father got to suffer through the pain he put me in! Oh, I can imagine him screaming and moaning in agony even though he'd already died! I took a needle and a thread, and sewed his right eye shut. Then, I sewed his mouth shut. As I cut the thread, I licked at the blood on my fingers and lips with  delightful pleasure, laughing as I did.

"Now you can't tell anyone about this father... You'll ruin the fun! Hahahaha...."

I dragged his corpse by the legs, and buried him in the backyard...