I was never a normal person growing up, I may have lived in a normal family in a normal town, it's just I was anything but that and I always found it hard to try and be like everyone else. The difference between me and normal people is that I'm not normal. I never felt anything for myself or anybody, caring little for who I know and who've I met, to me, my family and friends are just people, nothing important to me. I never had any friends also, but again, it's unimportant in my life.

My dad, a construction worker, and my mom a office lady or something I don't know, but, who really cares? I'm an only child and I'm alone most of the time since my parents were always busy, which I find confusing at times, considering where we live. We live in a normal neighborhood in a regular house in Colorado Springs, and to put it simply, nothing ever happens. The place is so plain that I bet the most entertaining thing that could happen is if the Cubbs win.

My life, as well as my town, is just plain and simple, people know about it, just they don't make a big deal out of it. It takes a lot to make me show anything, anger, happiness, sadness, it's very hard to do at times.

Even when I found out that my parents had died in a horrible accident, I just shrugged it off as if I was nothing, I just saw it as a common occurrence in life and cared little.

Being forced to live in an orphanage, changing schools and state, I never cared, besides, it's not like anyone cared about me anyway, I was already 13, so no one would want a preteen. It was a fairly normal orphanage, lots of kids who are also a little tipsy, while I'm the oldest one there. It was somewhat tedious at times when the owners think I look older than I am. I don't know why they say that, I can only guess it was because of my height and deep voice. The place was called 'God's Littlest Angles', and the weird thing is that how colorful the place looked, which made me wonder what the owner's thought when making it.

Whenever couples wanted to adopt, the workers would avoid me at any cost, seeing as how a few were afraid of me, for reasons I don't even know. If they think I'm not around or don't hear them, they always call me things like 'monster', 'alien', 'the stupid statue', and many more.

I'll give them this, some of them are clever, while the rest aren't, or just made up on the spot. Eh, it's not like it even mattered, like what do they expect me to do, attack them, frown my eyebrows, scold at them, what?

Whatever, there really was nothing that ever bothered me, anything that interested me, or something that made me happy, sad, mad, anything.

People have tried helping me, but I just ignore them in their futile efforts to make me feel anything, either nicely, or doing it for fun, seeing as how I never fight back, since I have no ambition to fight back. Therapist have come and gone, but they are all the same, trying to be friends, come to my level, which to them, resulted to random diagnoses'. There were even times where they got so frustrated that they even struck me, on multiple occasions, which I gotta say, isn't very professional.

Kids my age tried showing me random things to make me laugh, scared, or just try doing it in person. The rest of them just picked on me since I'm supposedly weaker them and they use me as target practice for random objects at my head. These things were pencils, balled up paper, and on rare occasions rocks. Some being more direct by individually, or all together attacking me in random fights. They aren't strong just per se, it's just that their egos are so big it gives them a little boost to beast those who are weaker. The teachers just stood there, not giving the slightest care in the world for my safety, even if I never do anything to affect the class or them in general.

Even if people try to be nice to me, I just stare and nod because what's the point?

My efforts in showing emotion are as pointless to me trying to feel anything, and that includes pain, I was never affected when I pricked my finger, being punched in the face, or even breaking my arm. It was a while ago when when of the bullies brought a metal bat and broke my hand because it so matters.

I never understood it, but I doubt that anyone with the same problems as me would think differently, especially since I'm not normal. I haven't seen anything in my life that I would make a big change, TV, no, art, no, music, not one bit. None of what I've seen has ever seem to surprise, excite, or scare me, and it's not like I've tried.

Life was dull and pointless to someone unless they have any thing to interest them, and for me it took longer, when I turned 16, I found something that caught my interest:

Death.

I've seen this rare occurrence before, I mean, who hasn't seen their fair share of horror films? But that wasn't the case. It was when I saw it in real life at random at a young age and let's just say it left an impact.

One day, walking to the orphanage from school because I missed the bus, I heard what sounded like a fight in an ally, being curious, I went to see and froze at the sight. On the ground was a man in maybe his 20 or 30s, lying on his back while a water like substance spilling from his chest and flowing towards where I was. Then I knew what it is.

Blood.

Walking over to the body, I saw that part of the man's head was gone and his chest was soaked with blood and there was over 9 gunshot holes on his chest and stomach. I don't know why, but something inside me felt strange, seeing it, I felt an unknown feeling, I felt... excited, in front of me lay the body of some random stranger, blood dripping or spurting out of him and I couldn't help but stare. When I returned to the orphanage very late at night, I was punished by the keepers, but my mind was elsewhere.

For weeks on end I thought of that image of the dead man in my head, and I felt... weird. At night I dream of the same thing over and over, but, it then became different as I got older. Instead of just the guy's body on the ground, it was one of the bullies I see at school, and for some reason, my hands had a gun, and it was pointed at him. I woke up when the final image of me pulling the trigger appeared and my heart couldn't stop pounding. I felt like if I told someone, they'd thing I'm crazy, but, really, these days, people are seeing this stuff so much it's like a joke.

It's been years since then, and I would say that the little excitement I saw from the body grew, now that I'm 19, I'm obsessed with seeing that stuff, be it as the first time, or done by myself. See, over the years, I've found out that if no one sees, cares, or knows about it, it's ok, especially when it comes to this, and I find myself more and more alive every time I do it.

I find myself doing this whenever I feel bored, or when I have the sudden urge to do it for some reason. The rush I felt when I did it and the thrill of the chase and the exciting conclusion of when I reach my mark.

I've felt emotions I never even knew I could feel or even know that I could feel them, especially since this is very foreign to me and most likely anyone who once knew me growing up. I felt sadness, not from my parents passing, but from when I saw one of my targets get away and I couldn't find them again, but that feeling went away as soon as I saw a new target.

I felt anger when I was attacking someone and they fought back, causing some problems whenever I finished, I get bruised, cut, or physically scarred, and it made my blood boil whenever they got away and taunted me. This happens when I come unprepared or the people I target are stronger and faster than I thought.

I felt satisfaction when I finished the job easily, paid off, or when I found someone who escaped, especially someone who taunted me, and got my revenge. So far, I've taken care of all the escaped victims, except one who I'll give this, he was a good fighter, it just sucks that he got the best of me. He may have gotten away, but I marked him so I could find the escapee in the future.

I felt joy, or I think it is, emotions are still foreign to me, when I took out someone who was worse than me, that they kill without reason. I kill to help my damaged mind, so they should stop stealing my kills and let the therapy help. Besides, it's not like anyone knows what I look like, I have no face, I mean literally, there's no way of me knowing what I look like!

Seeing the killing over and over again, I think back to my first kill, while not so impressive, it still left the mark on who I'm gonna be. I was released from the care of the orphanage when I turned 15 for bad behavior. If you call just not doing what they say from time to time then yeah I guess. I ended up mindlessly wandering wherever my feet took me.

I soon found myself at a small barn called Millar Farm, a simple farm that I guess is a livestock establishment. I say that since there's more animals then there are anything else. Looking around, I saw something that caught my eye, a random pig farther than the rest of its heard. Walking over to the pink mammal, I saw it eat to its hearts content on the grass below its feet, the thing was the size of a large dog and very fat.

But, nearby it was a knife, poor slobs probably about to be put down to be eaten, until my mind wonders on what that feels like. I've thought about death for years, but, I never knew what it felt like, which gave me a golden opportunity. Walking over, with the pink slob eating away at the grass, I took the knife and raised it in the air, the pig not caring one bit.

With one quick swing, the weapon easily pierced it's dat back, making it squeal loudly, it annoyed me, probably why he was being put down and turned to tomorrow night's dinner. The blood from the wound sprayed all over my clothes and face, from being so fat it's understandable why the pink walking dinner plate is so juicy. The clothes I wore were nothing special, just the last thing I put on before I was kicked out of the orphanages.

The thing couldn't stop squealing, so going for a easy kill, I pulled the knife out, spilling more blood, and jammed it into its head. It confused me on how easy it was to do, since I thought the skull would've stopped the easy plunge into its head. This made me wonder if I'm stronger than I thought, since I just pierced a animals head so easily. The slob stop squealing all together, and breathing, and standing...

I just killed something...

As I stare into the blood on the knife, I could see a weird shadowy figure in it where my face would be, which kinda confused me, I could almost see myself, and after the only interest in my life had been done by my hands. Then, it occurred to me, I found some thing that's finally interests me, and I could almost see myself.

This was a sign from an unknown force. It's telling me what I was meant to do and how it can help me finally know who I am, something I've dreamed of doing for so long.

I have to do this...

I could know who I am, what I look like, who I'm meant to become, and it was my task to find out.

For as long as I could remember, I've never seen myself, and as crazy as that sounds, I'm telling the truth. I have no idea what my face looks like, not even in the mirror or pictures. If I ever saw a picture of myself, I'd see what was behind me, not even my clothes were seen! While everyone could have the luxury, I couldn't, and it was just plain unfair. Even if some may not see it as a big deal, I do if it meant I could know what I am and if people could see who they are, they can see who they're meant to be and what they'll become. Now I've found something that is breaking that curse, allowing me to see who I am and that, showing who I am and meant to be, and that right there is absolute HEAVEN!!

They say that all life is precious on planet Earth, yet how is it that we end up killing each other and is so easy to do, time and again. I had no trouble making someone say goodbye to everything they ever knew especially since either they're so weak or it's because they're so human. The course of human history has shown how weak we are, to be sick, to loose a limb, to loose everything they have, and to die. I find myself doing that while doing the dead all the time and I'm not even trying at some points, it's just that easy to do.

With the pull of a trigger, the light of a match, the swing of a knife, a heavy object against the head, the quick turn of neck, or even just poison, my victims are so easy to take out. Now I know what you are all thinking, this guy is completely insane, well guess what, I think differently, and I'm sure many would agree, especially the therapist who tried and failed trying to help.

Hell, death is suck a joke these days that they put cute little child friendly skulls on 4 year old toys, and I'm wondering who's crazier in any scenario you look at.

Years gone by and now I'm 21, living in my own apartment in Omaha Nebraska, still taking my medication. On one Halloween, I watch a classic horror film of teens going to a lake to be killed by a hockey masked killer. I was curious about the silent killer and wondered what drove him to kill, revenge, fun, or is very confused to why he's doing it.

When I found a new target, I decided to mix it up and wore a hockey mask with a large machete, and once I was done, on my way home, I passed a store window and was surprised to what I saw. Instead of seeing nothing like usual, I saw a bulky figure with tattered clothes and a white hockey mask on his face.

It was... the killer from the movie...

Hm, so I see the killer where I'd be in my reflection, right after I saw the movie, and killed someone like the killer did, I don't know why, but I think this'll help me. I can't have my own identity, so I have to be like others to have theirs.

Weeks later, I watched another horror film about a crazed killer who became even more powerful in death. I saw the bad dream who died a killer in a fire, so I got curious if what happened before will happen again.

I found a secret hideout for a street gang, so I laid some gas around the building and waited for each of them members to be there before I start. Once I counted all the members, I blocked all the exits and started the fire, leaving no escape. Hours later, the fireman arrived and managed to put the fire out before it spread. I stood nearby, close enough to see that the water from the hoses puddled by my feet, and then I saw it. In the water, I saw a man wearing a brown hat, red and green stripped sweater, and his face had severe burn marks.

I'm the nightmare killer...

Years later, now 31, I considered myself a pro at what I'm doing, and I have to say that my method has helped me exponentially! I've noticed that with this new method of being horror movies killers has become my best way of seeing what I actually look like. So far, I've been a masked killer, a nightmare, a cannibal, weird deformed creatures, and a killer toy. I've been them all, and now I'm doing my biggest, most strategize, and with the highest kill count yet.

I've kidnapped a few people and had them locked in a random building as I hid in my home, watching my prisoners try and figure out how to leave. The people I took captive have been known to rob, cheat, steal, or worse as they please, which is something I can't ignore. I've made different rooms for each person in the room set for their own torture, based on what they've done and I'll enjoy seeing how they'll do with my chambers.

This is based off of one of my favorite movies, where a madman took people hostage and put them through their own kind of Hell. They'd have to see people they knew and love die if they don't do as I ask, and that includes themselves. I want to see how far they'd go to get out of there, save the people they love, or how far they'll go to see someone they hate die.

BAM!

I was surprised to have police break into my house and dog-pile me, saying my name and shouting that I'm under arrest for multiple accounts of murder, arson, resisting arrest, the list goes on. In the span of 72 hours, I was arrested, sent to court with no defense attorney, and put in a state prison, and the surprising part is that they say I'm the worst of the worst in the entire building.

This was wrong... I didn't belong here, I'M NOT A MONSTER!!

I was just trying to help my damaged mind and they think I did it just for fun!? God no, even before I started this, I mainly took out people who deserved to die, I just happened to do it in many, horrific ways.

Right now, I'm sitting on a bed in 10 by 10 cement wall cell with a bed and a toilet, the only thing that annoyed me was that there was no mirror, so I couldn't see what I look like now. Later, I was eating in the dining hall in a table by myself, and not purposely, but because everyone avoided me. These people here are convicted of homicide, robbery, arson, sexual assault, and they think I'm worse than them!? Either they're dumber than a sack of rocks, or they just know that if they step out of line, I'll kill them like the others that have crossed me.

Soon enough, there was a random food fight because these idiots can easily get angry if they slightly overlook their food or another inmate called his mother fat. Food and chairs were flying everywhere, but they somehow all avoided me and my table, even if it was by a few inches.

Splat!

I soon found myself with a face full of mash-potatoes and the room going completely silent, with everyone standing deathly still and faces filled with fear. I turned to the direction where the food projectile came from and found someone who was shaking more than the rest. He was about 6'2, orange overalls like the rest of us, a big scar on his face, and his skin was fairly tanned. I don't know what happened, but everything turned red and I was put into some sort of trance, I couldn't feel anything but pure, uncontrollable anger.

IT'S THE GUY THAT GOT AWAY!

That wise cracking little imbecile that got away, taunted me, and even took a few of my kills! That scar I put on his face was a permanent burn into my memory until I finally found him and took him out for good.

I stood up and lunged myself at the Scarface ripoff and began to punch without relent, which easily broke his nose, gave him a black eye, and multiple bruises. I saw a spoon and had an idea. Grabbing it, I was about to jab him in the eye, until I was dog-piled by the security, which took them a while to restrain me. I was able to take at least 4 out, right up to the part where they taser me all together until I'm unconscious.

Normally, this would've killed any other man, but at this point I highly doubt that, I mean, at one point, I took a bullet to the chest and was fine. This happened when I found one of my targets and was surprised to see they were armed. I was only hit once, but they thought they got me, but it missed my important organs. When I healed, I tracked them down and ended the job since no one escapes my and lives.

After my little food fight incident, I was given the death penalty because I was apparently to dangerous to be kept alive. While they are wise to get rid of me, they were stupid to think keeping me alive this long was the wisest choice. I mean, it's not like I didn't do anything that didn't deserve it, it's just idiotic to think I could be easily tamed.

Sighing, I soon found out that I'm to be executed in a few hours, but at this point, I don't care, they think I'm a monster, I think differently, and they think that a simple therapeutic method is so bad. While being dragged through the building, I heard the convicts shout and scream insults, praise, pity, and more as they all knew this was my end.

As I sat in the the chair, my wrists and ankles tapped to the edges of the chair and a metal helmet strapped to my head, I guess you could say I'm sitting on my death bed, but I'm sure that's not right. So, this was the end of a lifetime trying to find out who I am, and the only thought on my mind was what I look like now, I haven't checked my reflection in weeks, and it might change at the end.

"Could I have a mirror?", I ask the executioner to my right, he looked at me questionably, but left the switch to grab some thing in the other room. It took 3 minutes until he came back, holding a large mirror in his right side, it may have crossed my mind to why he complied so easily, but I didn't care anymore. So he brought the mirror to the front of my face, and to say the less, I was shocked beyond comprehension.

I saw a man in his late 30s with shaggy black hair, brown eyes, pale skin full of scars, especially a big one across right eye, and a small beard on his chin. I don't understand, who was this guy, he's never been in any horror film, book, or game I've seen, the guy looked like a regular person, what is the world trying to tell me.

Wait...

All I've ever seen in the mirror is monsters, cereal killer from books and movies, I saw the same for other people, I saw the monster within. It means that I'm looking at my true self, I don't look like a killer, a doll, or like a burn victim, I look like a plain old person.

MY TRUE SELF... IS A MONSTER

I could see some irony in this, but I couldn't help but grin, all I've ever seen what others may have seen, killers, monsters, people who put fear in people's hearts at the mention of them. The reason I couldn't see myself my whole life is because the being who did this wanted me to become a sort of death bringer, it wanted me to grow into who I am, I'm not a human being..

"Any last words?"

I look up with the grin still on my face, in front of me, I saw the warden and 2 cops at his side, all looking at me with hate or fear. The warden, a man in his late 40s with greying hair and an all white suit, I've seen this guy before, at my trial and saying that he could control me. The cops are familiar to, they were the ones who arrested me on the day I was caught, but that's not where I recognize them from. Those 2 were the only guys who actually seemed to take notice of me when we were in middle school.

I don't know when or how, but I started laughing, badly, effectively scaring the cops and the judge a bit, all surprised at the sight of a man never known to feel anything laugh his lungs out in the electric chair. The 2 cops who knew me when I was younger and a man who even sought to try and control me. I stop and stare directly into the warden's eyes, making him jump.

I then say may final words, things people have been trying to tell me since I was first born. These were gonna be my last words on Earth, and a perfect time at that, it shows how far I've grown and shows I know my destiny. Me finally saying who I am.

"I REALLY AM A MONSTER..."