Summer Camp
#2 of The darker stuff
I got bullied a lot in elementary school. At least, thats what I'm told. Apparently I have suppressed the memories. I'm told that I was put into headlocks, had my head hit, and had my pants and underwear pulled down. I'm glad that I don't remember. I'm insane now though, I don't what had caused it. It could have been the bullying, my abusive father, or the fact that I bottle up all my emotions, or all three. But I definitely wasn't born insane. I think it happened when I was in summer camp. I was 12 at the time, and there was this group of bigger boys, and at first they left me alone, but I must have done something because all of a sudden they started bullying me. It started with name calling, then light shoving, then finally hitting. The breaking point was probably when one of them came up to me alone. It was getting dark, and I was sitting on a tree stump, carving a stick, when he came over and shoved me off, calling me a wimp. I lunged towards him, and stabbed him, with my knife in my hand, and stabbed his stomach. He looked at me in shock, and I twisted the knife so the sharp bit was facing up, and I ripped up to his chest. He didn't scream. When he had died, I dragged his body into one of the boats, and dropped him into the middle of the lake. The next day we had to go look for him. I didn't give anything away, and I know I wouldn't have, but I still walked off as far as possible. I was followed by the leader of the group. The other two stayed back to look for their dead friend. When he came up to me he said "I bet you have something to do with this you fucking cunt!" I gripped my knife in my pocket. He kept calling me names, trying to get a reaction out of me. The whole time he was talking I was plotting his death. I took my hand out of my pocket to open my knife and he grabbed me. I spun around and stabbed him in the stomach. He fell to the ground, and I proceeded to cut lines down his arms and legs. He screamed for help, but we were too far for anyone too hear. I then cut his shirt off and wrote 'FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE' into his chest and stomach. I cut lightly, so only his skin was sliced. When I was satisfied with my work, I cut my words deeper. He screamed in agony the whole time. When I had finished, I rubbed dirt into the cuts. But I wasn't done. I picked up a stick and carved a point into it, and impaled him with it. When I left him he was still alive. When I got back to camp, the adults running the program called our parents to come take us home. A week later, they found the bodies. The leaders body was yellow and infected from the dirt. Nobody found out about me. At 12 years old, I killed two people, and got away with it. I still do.