Hit List

You know you want one, but usually you have one. It's deep in your head- the hit list. You know what I'm talking about, that little piece of notebook paper with all the kids you want to die and suffer. I know I have one, I'm not gonna lie. The thing is fairly long too. I would never tell you or any of my closest friends who was one the thing anyway. I don't actually plan to kill anyone at all actually. I keep it as a symbol- symbolic of all the hate and fustrations I've been in throughout the times. The list is everywhere I go, this hit list I posess deep down in my heart, in my little shoebox under the bed. I look at it from time to time and wonder "How did they get on here again." It may take a while, but then I knew why you were sent to my hit list. I look at it and smile, I smile a huge grin from ear to ear and think about if you have one or not- this hit list. I've recently added a few names. I take out a pen, any pen suits the damn thing, and I write the name down. I never put why, I never make the hit list a little journal of thoughts and hate words. It's not written on there, but I know it. I read the name and I remember. Some people really make me sick, this is a part of life. You know who you are. You know what you have done to get your dainty ass on the hit list. I love mine, I have kept it for so long I can never part with it. So if you are reading this, and wondering about my mentality, take a look at yours. We all have a hit list. We all have thought of who we want to see suffer. Embrace that.