There he laid before me, with deep red arterial blood spewing from his grotesquely twisted neck, and a surprised 'oh shiiiiit' expression on his face.
I was suddenly conscious of the weapon in my hand, I dropped it like a hot poker.
I had never killed a man before.
I was expecting to feel different...this didn't feel wrong. This felt ....strangely exhilarating. I glanced around to see if there were any witnesses.
I just killed a man, and no one knows it. I felt my face tugging at my mouth as a smile slowly crept across it.
I wonder ...do they put 10 year olds in jail?
I have been a killer since I was very young. I have gotten away with all my murders too. Even though countless people have seen the carnage, and one even told me..."Your quite talented" as he surveyed the pile of corpses I left like stacked wood on his desk.
I'm a writer. I have the divine power within to create life, manipulate it and call an end to it with a stroke of my pencil, or click of my keys.
I can conjure up entire worlds and fill in the faces. I can create life where there was none a second ago.
I am not a benevolent god to those who I create. They must dance to my tune or be deleted.
Though... I have had a few creations who wrestled with me and refused to die when I commanded it. A few brazen souls who I find time and time again clinging to the sides of my writers pail. I scoop them out and they dance as my fingers fly over the keys.
I wonder if they are merely my reflection in the water in my writers pail.
About a year ago I tossed my novel The Children of Starr out.
All of it, save for the drawings and some scattered pages that were not in the box.
I started writing TCoS in 1975, when I was 9. Killed the first character when I was 10.
This novel was my therapy tool. I am not kidding when I say it kept me alive. I actively wrote on it till I was in my late 20's.
Here I am when I had completed the year 2075 "The cracker war".
This is in the mid 80's. I felt the need to pose for this "mug" shot. This young woman just got away with murder.
TCoS was written day by day. As in each and every day of the time frame is documented.
Each of those three note books is the complete day by day description of the characters for the year 2075. Where the big city has attacked the inhabitants of the Wild Area. Its a blood war with lots of casualties.
When I tossed my novel in the trash I graduated to a whole new level...I had now committed genocide. and worse then that ....i destroyed evidence.
What a power.
The ability to create a character and make them sentient...then choose their life outcome for them. All while the rest of the world sees you as a well adjusted person, never realizing the darkness inside your imagination.
A friend once recommended a Steven King book for me, telling me it was the scariest thing she had ever read.
I love a good scary read, so I jumped in.
bah, not scary at all.
He was writing about being a writer...about that well we all dip our buckets into.
To a non-writer it must have seemed scary and frightening.
...to me a writer...it was just, the normal everyday in my head.
Sometimes when I walk by mirrors and I catch a glimpse of me, my writer's mind will whisper, she doesn't look like a killer.
Oh, make no mistake. I most definitely am.