It started when I was 10. The neighbour's cat hated me. She hissed and clawed at my ankles as I walked home from school. I was afraid to kick her away. The owner was my mom's best friend and I feared punishment if either of them saw. Still, I hated that cat. And I new I had to punish her. So I crushed up a few of my mom's aspirin and put it in some of the leftovers my mom made me take to her after dinner. I didn't think it would kill her, but, if I'm not honest with myself I was glad she was gone. I wish it stopped there, But sadly, it didn't. What started with a cat grew into a hatred for all animals, all living things even. I would kill dogs, raccoons, rabbits, it doesn't matter. I learned it's much more satisfying to kill with knives other than poison. I delighted in the feeling of knife delving deep into flesh. I felt strong, fearless. Things I had never felt before when I was a mere child fearing punishment. When I was 16 or so something changed. I was never popular in school but people stopped talking to me. They whispered when they thought I couldn't hear that I was a freak. They were right to be afraid. The animals were no longer enough for me. I needed something more, something...bigger. So I decided I would kill my little sister, Julia. My parents decided to go out one warm June evening leaving me in charge of her. She was only 5, but I envied her. She, who got all the attention. She, who at such a young age had more friends than I had ever had. So when my parents left I sat her in front of the television and planned. Close to dinner time I asked Julia if she wanted to go for a short walk. I brought a backpack saying that we could have dinner at about a half a mile into the woodland that spilled out for miles that began a minutes walk from the backyard. We weren't usually aloud in the woods though it was where I usually trapped and killed animals so she was all excited. While she was getting dressed I packed. I put a serrated knife, a thick tablecloth, rubber gloves, duct tape of which I ripped a small strip, a change of clothes, shoes and scissors. We set of throughout the narrow paths of trees. When we finally reached the clearing I let her walk ahead of me. I grabbed the strip of duct tape I had ripped of when we were at the house, I walked up close behind her and put it over her mouth, holding her still in one hand I put on the gloves, I pushed her to the ground binding her ankles and wrists with the tape. I placed her on the tablecloth putting her as close to the middle as I could with her squirming. Cutting off her clothes was easier than I thought. She had dressed in a thin tank top because of the warm weather. I took out the knife and pushed it in her stomach slowly, savouring the feeling as the serrated edge tore through her soft skin ripping through her organs, streams of blood gushing out as I pulled it out just as slow, then delved it in again faster, not stopping until her muffled cries, and the rise and fall of her chest had seized. I carried her body to the deep river nearby and dumped it carefully into the current. After I had walked back, I took off the gloves and pulled my clothes from the bag and stuffed the soil tablecloth and the remains of my sister's shirt in. Changing quickly I also put my now stained and dirty clothes in the bag. On my walk home, I decided I should dump the bag in a dumpster at least a street away. When I finally returned home I cooked a dinner of canned beef stew for my parents and waited. They came home only an hour after I had. "Where's your sister?" My mother asked as she sat down at the table while my father hung up their coats. I told them she went for a walk and I wasn't sure when she'd be back. She looked at me wide-eyed. "You let you sister go for a walk by herself?" "Well, yeah. She's pretty smart. I'm sure she'll be fine." I replied, trying to stay calm. "She's 5! How could you be so irresponsible?!" She said. "How long has she been gone?" I looked at the clock, repressing my anger. I had done this for them! Could they not see how much of a burden she was? "I guess...half an hour? I haven't really been watching the time." My mother stood up and grabbed my father's hand with tears in her eyes. "Honey, go call the police she's been gone for too long. What if something happened to her?" Father took out his cellphone and dialed 911. He walked into Julia's room and sat on her bed. He came out a few minuets later and said they were looking for her. They believed me, I thought. We spent the next half hour waiting silently around the kitchen table when a knock came at the door. Father jumped up to open it. "Yes, did you find her?" He asked hopefully. "I'm sorry sir but we found your daughter's body in a stream in the woods behind your house." The policeman replied. Mother broke down sobbing while father knelt, attempting to console her. I did my best to look sad and a little confused as if I couldn't believe it was happening. The police might inform them that they would be investigating, but I doubt I'll be caught. No one would think that even the freak, the lonely outcast, would kill his own sister. And that's not even the good part. I found out mom is gonna have a child. And I can't wait to be a big brother again...
