El Monstruo

I remained silent for too long.

Countless times on the stand, I was just waiting.

Yes, I listened to your testimonies; I saw your tears.

Do you obviously think any of this nonsense means [I]anything[/I] to me?

You would positively be crazy if you believed that.

I laugh when I think of the faces of my victims; they were so scared and helpless.

I love to be in charge; I love to rule.

You thought you made an impact on me, social worker, but you didn’t.

I’m still that psycho maniac you tried to cure back in high school.

I am still bitter.

I am still vengeful.

Father, it was your entire fault.

Those teenage girls were putty in your hands after you threatened them with their lives. You stripped them of their innocence just like you stole mine.

I remember it, Dad.

I don’t forget easily.

All the men I killed had your face, the smug, self-loving smirk.

I hated that look.

They needed to die.

I loved stabbing them countless times with your knife.

They screamed, “Why?!”

I just laughed and laughed.

I cut them up, finger by finger, toe by toe, until they were in bloody pieces staining the carpet with my favorite shade of red.

Rotting flesh is not the most appealing scent to the average human, but for me, it was the sweetest perfume.

I kept myself from eating the bite-sized body parts as I shoved them into plastic baggies.

They would’ve tasted good; I just know it.

Take a trip with me back to the playground.

You knew how much I loved those swings.

We used to walk down to the park and play on those things for hours.

No, Dad, I didn’t forget that either.

I had to go back there and get what I wanted.

I needed human flesh.

I saw a young girl there, unattended, on early Sunday morning.

She was wearing a nice pink dress with a princess crown.

When I walked over to her, she asked me if I had any candy.

Oh, how I despise a child’s innocence.

I took her from the bench and brought her back to my house.

I gave her candy, her last meal.

I tied her onto your chair, Dad.

As I slit her wrists, she begged me to give her Barbie doll.

I gave it to her.

Her crimson blood spilled onto the material of the chair, and she screamed into my ear, convulsing in the chair. Soon after, she died.

I pried the Barbie doll from her hands and ripped the head off it.

Traditionally, I tossed it into a plastic baggie and placed it with all the other remnants of my past killings. I decided to try something new, then.

I took a match, and I tossed it onto her body.

Her pink princess dress went up in flames.

I started to laugh again; this was hilarious.

I never had doubts about what I was doing, but a little voice in my head urged me to stop.

[I]Brendon, don’t do it!

Don’t do it![/I]

I didn’t listen, of course.

What I was doing finally put me in control of my life.

I finally made something of my life, Dad. Aren’t you proud?

I’m a monster because of you.

I am the monster.

Soy el monstruo.

You created me.

The monster in me bites through my skin and gnaws on my internal organs.

It’s poisoning me, and the only way I get it to stop is to take the lives of the innocent.

They did nothing to me, but you did.

You were dead, then, but you still lived in my soul.

I recall a time when I saw a beautiful boy.

Charcoal brown and straight, his hair flew in the breeze as he sat on the ground.

He was drawing something; I had decided to walk to him and see what it was.

I had tricked him into my van, and soon after, I brought him to my house.

He was very upset, and I tried to comfort him.

I asked him what his favorite candy was; he said Nerds Rope.

I gave him one, and soon after he ate it, I strangled him with another Nerds Rope.

The tiny sugary pebbles fell onto his shirt as he choked for his last breaths.

I kept the red colored gummy rope in my plastic bag.

I dumped his body in the river.

You never found him; I’m good at hide and seek.

I’ve killed so many people; I’ve seen so many faces.

I’ve hurt the innocent.

I’ve killed the faultless.

I am corrupt.

I am guilty.

I am a monster.

I love every minute of it.

Today is my ten year anniversary of being in this cushy prison.

To the many people who put me in here: I don’t care.

I have no remorse for what I’ve done, and all you’ve done is put me in a place where I can finally be alone, eat free food, and not have to worry about a job.

This straightjacket keeps me worm ,and to be honest, I love the white plushy walls.