Well, at least we know that somewhere in out minds, and in our conscious there will always be that small amount of sanity left. That small amount of normal. Yet, no one is really “normal”. The idea of normal is almost too perfect. Really being normal isn’t that great. If your not normal you tend to have a more interesting life. Your tend to do things that a “normal” person wouldn’t do. Yes, I know, this is starting off to be quite deep, but I’d like to tell you about my life. My abnormal life.

My name is Sam Austin Monroe. For some reason my parents wanted to make my initials my name, I don’t ask questions. I was born in a small town in northern New York. I have two brothers and one sister. Really, for the first decade of my life, everything was great. I went to school and was at the top of my class. I had friends and a wonderful life. I was like any ten year old, joyful, happy, and excited to try and see new things. I had taken karate since age five. I enjoyed it. It gave me a sense of security, and it meant that i could defend myself. I remember that in those years of joyfulness, and excitement I would love to go to the lake with my friends and family. I lived a pretty nice life.

That was until my family packed up and moved. Only days after I turned 12. Both of my brothers, both are much older than me, stayed. I was left with my sister and my parents. We moved to North Carolina. The only reason we moved was because my father had gotten another job there. So, I had to start my life over.

About a year later, I was 13, I was still no more than an outcast at my school. There was the rare occasion that i was made fun of, but other than that I had no friends. I usually stayed in my room and played video games or drew. I liked to draw when I was younger, usually graphic drawings of creatures and bloodied knights. There was also the odd occasion that I would help my mother sew. I didn’t really enjoy it, but it was something to take my mind off school.

A year and a half passed since I moved, and I finally made a friend, Joe. We had a lot in common, and he had just moved here from Washington D.C. Much like me he was made fun of because he was from somewhere else. This little town was odd. If your weren’t from the area you were basically an outcast. Everyone either knew each other or they were related. Honestly I thought it was dumb, but who cares. Anyway, the two of us got along well, and out parents became friends. This however was the only happiness that I’d experienced in a while. This happiness was soon to end as well.

One day joe and I were walking to the local convenience store. These three kids, oh these kids. I’d seen them at school once or twice. They ran up to was and just randomly started talking to us, but not in a good way. They were trash talking. These random kids. Two of them were skinny, and looked like they needed a freaking hamburger. The other was fat, and was out of breath from walking over to us. I didn’t think much of it until they decided to fight. The other skinny one, not the leader, but the other one threw a punch at Joe. To this day I cant remember that shithead’s name. Unfortunately it hit Joe right in the jaw. Joe wasn’t as strong as I was, so he buckled and fell to the ground. I tried to coax him and help him up so we could leave. I didn’t want to start a fight, but it happened anyway. The leader, I believe his name was Jason, threw one at me. I dodged it and swung back. For some odd reason, after I swung and my fist came in contact with his frail body, I felt this sensation. It felt good, but it was so sudden. It was nothing I had felt before, but I liked it. My blood was rushing, and my heart was pounding. However, this feeling only lasted a second. The fight continued, and in the end the three ran home crying. I made the fat one throw up.

Later that same day, me and Joe were in my room playing video games when my mother burst into the room. She was furious with me for some reason I wasn’t sure of. She told me to come downstairs, so I did as she said. There in the living room were two police officers. They had told me that this was because I had started a fight with them, and had hurt them. I remember thinking to myself “those pieces of s**t lied”. I luckily, was let off with no more than a warning. They clearly didn’t see the wound on only friend’s jaw. My mother was extremely mad at me. She took Joe home, and grounded me for a week. I had done nothing, but defended myself and my friend. We were just minding our own business. I told her this, but she didn’t believe me.

School for the rest of the week was horrible. I was shunned by everyone there. The teachers weren’t even nice to me! By the end of the week I was surprised I didn’t get in another fight.

It was Saturday morning, and I was finally ungrounded. Joe was over, and my mother was in her office, my dad at work in the garage. The phone rang and my mother picked it up. She called me. It was Jason’s mother. She wanted to come over with Jason to settle the differences, and get to know my mother. I told Joe this, and he said he was going to leave. I understood this, and I didn’t blame him. He left just as Jason and his mother pulled into the driveway. My father had gone to the auto part store to get a part for his truck, and my sister was at her friend’s house, so it was just Jason, Jason’s mother, me, and my mother. I had a strange feeling this would end badly.

I was in my room quietly awaiting Jason when he came in. We talked for a bit and finally settled our differences, or so I thought. I decided we should go out back to the small creek that ran behind me house. So, we went to the creek and joked a bit. It started to get dark, and it was starting to get difficult to see anything the woods, but we stayed. I started to hear the rustling of leaves and the sound of twigs breaking, but I didn’t think much of it until I faintly saw that other skinny kid. Then, behind him, was the fat kid. I could see some sort of light in the fat kid’s hand. It looked like the fire of a lighter, but it went out before I could determine what it was. I can briefly remember the conversation afterwards.
“ Jason, why are they here “ I said.
“ Payback. This is payback for that fight. “ Jason continued. “ You landed him a sprained finger”. He pointed at the other skinny kid
“ Seriously Jason? It was your fault anyway!”
The fat kid spoke “ So what b***h? “ He flicked on the lighter “You’ve played with fire, now you’re going to get burned. “

That must have been some sort of signal because Jason and the other skinny kid grabbed my arms and brought me to the ground. I sat there on my knees struggling to get loose. The fat kid grabbed a handful of leaves and a piece of think bark. He put the leaves on the bark and lit the dry leaves on fire. He pushed the burning leaves onto my face. I yelled in agonizing pain. He just held them there. He pushed them into my face, the hot flames burning my hair and face. I blacked out, but woke up to the sound of sirens. I was cold and wet. They must have thrown me into the creek. My face hurt, and so did the side of my head. I could feel a cut on my hand when I clenched my fist. I was rushed to the hospital, my mother crying at my side, and my father hovering over me.

At the hospital they put me on anesthetics, so again, I don’t know what they did while i was out. When I slowly started to awake it could hear my parents talking to the doctor.
“ Your son will be fine, but he will have permanent facial damage. He is also blind in his left eye. Ill leave you two so you can talk about this.“ The doctor told my parents then left.
“ Why did this have to happen to him. He only has one friend, now he’ll never make anymore friends, and I’ll never be friends with anyone in the community. He’s just going to sit in his room, and do nothing. We need to do something.”
“ What can we do Martha? Get rid of him? “
“ If it’s necessary, but we need to wait until he’s healed before we decide. “

Three or four weeks passed. That conversation burned into my mind. I started to feel that sensation again. It felt like hatred. I liked it. I wanted more of it. I wasn’t sure how I could get it though. I thought about this often during my time in the hospital. I was finally healed. The nurse came in one day, and asked me if I wanted to see myself. She then told me that I was going home that day. I took the small mirror she held out to me and looked at myself. Three fourths of my face was blistered and scarred. My hair was burned. My left eye was white and hazy. I closed my right eye. I couldn’t see anything. i gave the mirror back to the nurse. Hours later I was home. I went straight to my room and stared at myself in the mirror on my wall.
That night i heard my parents talking in their room.
“ It’s worse than we thought. I can’t live with that. “
“ It’s a hard decision we have to make, but we have to do what right for our family. “
“ You’re right. Where would he go? “
“ I’m not sure. Orphanage maybe?”
“ Yeah, we’ll talk about this later. “Orphanage? They’re getting rid of me because of my face? They’re getting rid of me because they think I won’t have friends? They’re getting rid of of me because they won’t have friends? Those are just a few of the things that went through my head. Then, there was that feeling. I felt it again. It was stronger than ever. I felt like I was being controlled.

I ran downstairs and grabbed the largest knife I could. Then I ran to my mother’s office and grabbed a needle and thread. Without hesitation I went to my parent’s room. The door was open and I walked in. I stood by the end of their bed. I remember them pleading as I slowly held the knife up. I jumped. I killed them. I killed my parents, and my sister. I felt no regret. None, not even a little. I stitched their eyelids shut, and their mouthes closed.

I ran back to the office and stitched cloth to my face. I stitched it to three fourths of my face. I stitched on a creepy smile. I felt the blood from my face dripping down my neck as I stitched. I grabbed a tux from my room and put it on. It matched with the bloodstained cloth stitched on my face. The sensation was great. It was greater than ever. I ran out of the house. I ran to Jason’s house. Colby and the other skinny kid were there. I killed them all, even his parents. I stitched their eyes and mouthes just like I did to my family. It was great. So much power. To listen to the three die slowly. It was great.

I ran to the woods. I was alone. It was great. I killed the rest of the night. Everyone that ever hurt me or Joe. Joe, what about Joe? No, I was to kill alone. I better not let him know I did it. I couldn’t do that. He was the only one I ever cared about. I decided to just leave him, leave this town. I thought as I walked. The stitches on my face still bleeding. Stitches? It sounds great. Stitches. That name, it spoke to me. From then on I stitched that name on me victim’s forearm.

Im not questioned in public about the mask. I kill quietly, and so one one sees me. At night is when I strike. I have this method. I first make the victim go crazy with this noise. This inhuman noise. It terrifies my victims, and it gives me an opportunity.

I’m nearly insane, but there is something that keeps me sane. I don’t like it. I want to be fully insane. I want to be crazy, crazier than I already am. I love this feeling. It controls me. That’s it for now, but I just want you to know. Always stand your guard.

  • Jeff Crow

    Not bad beginning bad the rest parts of the story too simple and slack.

  • Puneet Chaudhary

    Is there a next chapter? The ending was kinda…. Not satisfying….

    • Kaitlyn Nerd_101

      I did intend to finish the story, take this one down(if possible), and redo it. Unfortunately tho original was corrupted, and is unretrievable​. I will attempt to fix this, but until then it is what it is.

  • Konye Johnson

    It seemed like towards the end you kinda gave up a bit. Almost seemed forced.

  • Fiver

    I assume this is “heavily influenced” by Jeff the Killer. There is almost nothing original to the piece as most of it is far too similar to Jeff the Killer, which is already far from a good story. The details are blatantly set out for the reader, dully placed rather than entwined in the text and mostly unnecessary. The entire backstory is long, rambling, and boring. Almost nothing actually develops your character producing a flat OC with a common name made only more cliche by the fact that it might as well be called a blatant rip off. It fails to evoke even the simplest emotion in way of sympathy or discomfort let alone produce a scary or unsettling air. Then you drag the story on to give out utterly pointless information making this increasingly difficult to read.

  • Kalia Stenlund

    I personally enjoyed the story, although it could use some editing…

    • Kaitlyn Nerd_101

      Thank you, and yes the story will be edited and reuploaded within the next month.

      • Kalia Stenlund

        Thats good, the story has real potential.

  • LilySynx

    This story is kind of like Jeff the Killer’s story. Both moved to somewhere new, were outcasts, were bullied, were almost killed, had their faces ruined, made their faces look “pretty”, killed their parents, killed anyone who got in their way, and continue killing to this very day. Is this story inspired from Jeff’s back story at all?

  • Danni1

    So edgy