The first time I committed murder was about two years ago, when I was 18. I used to be a normal teenage girl, I had a boyfriend, lots of friends, a great social life. Until one day, my life just stopped being...interesting.
Every day felt the same. Nothing really entertained me or gave me a thrill anymore. I was completely and utterly bored.
I stopped pretending to be nice and snapped at people a lot, sometimes I would even get physical. My friends started to avoid me, which I didn't really care too much about at the time. The thing that really pissed me off was when my boyfriend decided he was going to break up with me.
After I heard from my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend's friend that my boyfriend was planning to dump me, I began to...slip away. Sometimes my mind would go blank and I wouldn't be in control of my thoughts. My mind would fill with gruesome images and violent, disturbing thoughts.
At first this bothered me, but the more I thought about my boyfriend dumping me, the angrier I got and I started to want the fantasies that played through my mind to become reality.
I toyed with the visions and made them my own, I guess they brought out my creative side. They amused me in a way nothing else ever had, and I knew that the only way for me to finally be happy again was to give in to it. The voice in the back of my mind, I mean. The one that whispered to me, saying things that brought a smile to my face. The one that told me to kill him.