School starts next week and I don’t know the type of person I want to be. It’ll be my last year of high school and I just realized that my mom isn’t alive to see me graduate so that’s a fun thought spinning around in my head today. But it’ll be my last year and then I won’t have to see any of these people again. I won’t have to wear a mask for 8 hours a day while I learn about things that are genuinely interesting with people who are generally not.
I like
learning – and not just because more knowledge affords me better ways to kill
people. The world is insane and overwhelming and, especially right now, it’s
terrifying. But when I learn something, I understand it, and when I understand
it, it’s not scary anymore. The more I learn about the world and people the
more in control I feel.
As much as
I’m really looking forward to no more 8am calculus with Mrs. Fletcher (who
tries way too hard to be relatable that it’s just cringey), I’m going to miss
having something to focus on. It seems like graduation is ages away but I have
a feeling this year is going to fly by.
On top of
my general teenage woes, I’m also going to have to spend the year getting
sympathetic looks from everyone. At least, if mom had died doing what she loved,
I could have made up a lie about her running off so I wouldn’t have to stomach
everyone’s “compassion”. Because she had to die like a pedestrian, I am going
to have to spend the next ten months dodging people’s not-so-subtle glances and
pretending to be heartbroken when most of the time, I’m just tired and angry.
Maybe that’s
what heartbreak feels like.
I’m going
to have to see the councilor. James assured social services that hey would be
taking me to see a therapist and then we went to see Bullet Train which was so
much better than therapy. I don’t want to talk about my feelings. I don’t want
to think about my feelings, I don’t want to feel my feelings. I wouldn’t even
know how without talking about the murder stuff and apparently murder is frowned
upon in civilized society.
I just want
to get to the part when I can start the next chapter of my life. Whatever that
is. I wish I had a vision of my life. Even just a glimpse of myself a year from
now would be preferable.
I’m tired
and I’m angry and I don’t understand why I don’t have the answers.
I kidnapped
someone on Sunday. I didn’t kill them – which is new for me. I have them
chained up in the basement. James had to help fix some of the soundproofing
that had come off the windows. They’re just down there, waiting for me. I make
sure they have food and water and I clean up after them a few times a day. It’s
like having a pet. Except I can kick this pet, and punch this pet, and strangle
this pet within an inch of its life. I can stab them and smother them and clean
their wounds when they get infected. I can make them bleed. And for a little
moment, I feel better knowing there is someone in the world who feels my pain.
I don’t
know how long I’m going to keep them. Maybe until I feel better? I think that could
take a while. In the meantime, I have this plaything that distracts me from all
the things I’m starting to dread.
It’s not
enough. But it’s enough for now.
Sincerely,
Casey
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