|Thursday, January 26th, 2006|
mum says i have to write her more poems so she can sell them to tabloids.
FUCCH OFF MUM
I murder so that I may come back, not her.
|Monday, October 17th, 2005|
scottswood never stops raining
|Monday, September 12th, 2005|
my friends list sucks. too few people.
|Tuesday, September 6th, 2005|
im depressed. some girl slapped me and called me a murderer. bitch.
|Sunday, August 28th, 2005|
|Saturday, August 27th, 2005|
i smushed a butterfly in my hands. now its all yukky.
|Tuesday, August 23rd, 2005|
when i grow up i want to be a nurse. what about you?
|Friday, August 19th, 2005|
|Wednesday, August 17th, 2005|
i got myself again. go figure.
you are mary bell. You love giving people sick
scares, don't you? You are still a kid and you
love to mislead people or you never had a
childhood and you have a need to play tricks on
people. Mary led the victims sister all around
town and then to the body just to see her face.
Sound familliar??? Which serial killer lives inside you? brought to you by Quizilla
i hope they don't hang little girls...
|Tuesday, August 16th, 2005|
brians mum called me the devils spawn, so i spat at her shoes.
|Monday, August 15th, 2005|
one of the reporters took a picture of me
i need a shower real bad. at normas house the whole family has to shower only once a week cuz there are so many. its the same in jail. the screws here never bother me though, they just sit and stare.
I saw him standing there that one bleak morning...he was so little, so vulnerable and ripe. His youth radiated from him like the sun raining down upon us in rays of golden light. There was something so untainted about him, so incredibly pure that I just had to have him. Whether it was jealousy or the forceful, ever present surge of blood lust, I'll never know...maybe it was both.
But I held the knife in my hand, devouring him with my eyes as he played some innocent game that only children understood. I never had that childhood, that bright eyed sense of wonder about the world. I hated it, despised it...yet, I couldn't help wanting it. I had to have him.
The knife pierced his skull before he could even notice my presence. "Martin, my boy, you've made quite a mess!" I giggled in girlish delight as the liquid blood poured from his gaping wound. I danced upon it, scuffing my Mary Janes shoes in his death. His once youthful gaze became lifeless as he stared up at me, pleading with vacant desperation.
"Finally...I have you," I whispered.
So became my first killing, my first possession...Martin was the first but won't be the last. So...now you know...do you still want to read more? Current Mood: calm
|Sunday, August 14th, 2005|
if i met a girl that had done this id give her 10 months, tops.
are they going to hang me?
murder isn't all that bad anyway, we all die sometime.
a man called me a monstrosity of nature. those are funny words. Current Mood: giggly
they brought us into a cell, normas down the hall. we can knock on the walls to send messages. mam came to visit me and i says FUCH OFF i dont want you here and she just keeps shaking me and says 'what have you done what have you done' and starts yelling. i'll kill my mother!
i dont want to go to sleep in here, im afraid i may mess the bed.