Where was I going? Which way was the right way? I asked myself as my thoughts gloomy and my eye's dull gray from all the pain, even though my eye color was blue. The paths that were before me were all unidentifiable, as if someone had blocked it with a dark blanket that leads to nothing but pure wretchedness and emptiness. Perhaps it was my own mind that was blinding me from the right path, or the path I was on was right after all. These streets are usually identical but for some reason there not today. Perhaps I am just blabbering words of a pure madman, but even so it doesn't change my heart that is full of mourning and twinge. Even though this road seems so murky and weary, and I have been judged, abused, maltreated by my own friends; I have taught myself to never give up because in the end I will realize the right path. It seemed that every step I walked through the candle lit dappled streets, the path behind me started fading away and I knew every step I was taking couldn't be taken back; It was like a painting and I couldn't take back a stroke of the brush.
Perhaps it was some it was some kind of demon from Satan that was stopping me from finding the right path. The docks were full of young couples that were full of so much hope, so much love, so much freedom. Things I knew I would never have, but I still held on to these false dreams and lies. I, unlike them, was a slave to hatred and revenge. Revenge is like a dark entity that keeps on whispering in your ear lies, and saying not to let it go. I want to let it go but I can't let it go because if I do everything I have been since the day my parents died, disappears.
My parents passing away I feel was no accident. No I am not passionate to find the murderer but I am content. I retain information on how it started and I remember the day, it was wintry weather. I was 12 years of age at that time. I remember I was by fresh evergreen trees, I smelled the fresh scent of pine needles as my hands were in the snow as they were turning light crimson from the cold. The smell of fresh pine needles was quickly replaced with a thick scent of smoke and death varied together. I couldn't keep my eyes open because of the smoke. My hands that were once a light crimson turned to a sinster black because of the smoke. I was frozen, I couldn't breathe but maybe that was because my lungs couldn't handle it at that time; but for some reason I feel that isn't the case.
Perhaps there was a dark angel of death or Satan that was stopping me from going straight into that house and finding out what precisely killed my parents; or maybe it wasn't the devil. Maybe it was God trying to save me from burnig to death or maybe I was being a pure coward. Even so, when they passed my heart had been buried in the ground with them. I remember I could hear the screams of agony, they were distored, and raspy because of the smoke that was now turning their lungs black, like my heart. What hurts me most is I didn't do anything I just stayed there like a little child. Prehaps my bravery wouldn't have even mattered because fear never really goes away, it's just absent for a little bit of time and it waits for when you're at your most vulnerable and strikes when you least expect it, like it did then. Why does life lie to us? Or am I just lying to myself? Whats wrong with me? Why am I acting like a child? Why can't I act like everbody else? I thought to myself, it was a bitter cold reminder that I was all alone and merely have God to maintain me companionship. Everybody else never bothered to read my black letter and unlock sympathy for a stranger. Prehaps this was my own liability, if I had only been a better suitor, if only I had a lot of money, if only I could give the proper happiness for someone.
I felt an iced bitter wind surrounding my body. My body went limp as I continued on the path I was on. I tried to forget about my parents death but all I could hear in my ears were the screams from that day. I covered my ears with my hands trying to make the screams go away but they ceased to stop. I bent over as if I had an upset stomach. I didn't want anyone to see me. I put my hands over my eye's, it was a failed attempt to stop the river of tears from coming. A small slivery tear glimmered down my face as it had made past my hand barrier. I looked around even though my vision was blurred. I stood up straight and wiped away the tears for I could see better. I looked down the dappled forsaken streets, the candles that had been lighting the path were about to go out now. I saw a young lady on the dimily lit road. She had golden locks that bounced every time she took a step forward. Her bright green emerald eyes shined in the moonlight, her eyes showed so much love in them. Her white dress had made her look like an angel, even though I knew she was far from any angel. She was a prostitute, she had all of her money she had earned in a box. I took a black piece of cloth from my pocket an tied it around my face. I also took out a pair of black gloves and put them on my hands. I looked at a small water puddle on the ground and decided I was unrecognizable. I pulled a white piece of cloth and started twisting it in my hand. I hid it behind my back. I apporached the girl with single minded determination. You may fancy me mad but would a mad man take such lengths to in sure his victory, of course not.
Excuse me Madam, are you a prostitute? I asked.
Yes, I am, may I be of a service? She asked.
Yes you can, can you come with me? I asked trying to sound pleasent but I already had a sicking grin on my face.
Certainly, monsieur. She said sounding very on the edge and hesitant. I grabbed her hand tenderly and escort her into a dark corner near the white chapel church. I looked around and made sure we were out of sight. I quickly jerked her securely to me; I put the white cloth in her mouth and tied both of the ends. I then placed my left hand over her mouth just for good measure. She tried to struggle away from me but it was to late I already had a firm grip on her.
With my right hand I pulled out a silver dagger. The blade shined in the moonlight as I pressed it aganist her throat; holding her in a tight embrace. She was ensared in deaths grip and she knew it. She was like a butterfly trapped inside a spiders web the more she struggled the more stuck she became. I was like a child in a candy in a candy store, I longed to steal that candy and then one day I just do it. In a elegant motion I moved my hand across her throat. Her eyes now looked of death as her dark red crimson blood started to drip from my hand to the floor. I hated prostitutes, why can't they just be happy with what they have? They go out with all these other men, how dare they. For some reason when I felt the life leaving her body I felt happy. A deep joy started to envelope my whole body. I felt as if all the probelms in the world were lifted off my shoulders. Her heart had stopped only about a couple minutes after I stabbed her. I wasn't done yet; I took my dagger and placed it over her heart. I applied preasure until I broke the skin. I pressed the knife through her heart this way she knew what it felt like to have your heart broken. I placed her body on the ground, I took out a coin and placed it in her box. Thank you for you services. I said as I turned and walked away from the crime. I'll do this again, I said as I laughed to myself. My name is Walter but you may call me Jack the ripper. Do you still fancy me mad?
The thing that inspired me to write this was the story Insanity, it was a story I made that some people said I needed to make it a story with real characters. My reading teacher wants me to write a book about this so your feed back would really help.
Written by I love scary stories