Entry #1
Friday
"What a perfect day," I thought as I crawled under my covers to go to sleep. As I closed my eyes, my mind recalled the events of the day. That morning, I got up as usual with my morning coffee and newspaper, ready to start another day. But as I was walking down to the bus station, I saw something that caught my eye. A red coat and purse walked by my side. It was striking, and I found it alluring. I decided to put a mental note to look out for it again for the rest of the day. When I walked into work, my boss dropped a pile of papers on my desk, with an evil smirk. I just rolled my eyes and got to it. As the workday continued, the thought of the red coat and the purse came back to me frequently. It grew more and more interesting, and I got more excited. It had been a month since I had had any excitement like this both due to work and city reasons. When my workday was finally over, I walked over to where I had seen that red coat and purse. I waited an hour before it came back, and I devised a plan to take it back home with me. But I had to be incredibly careful, because of last month. Last month, when I brought home a blue tie and jeans, my neighbors asked why I had clothes hanging in my window. The red coat and purse moved towards the bus stop and sat down. I knew the bus was coming, so I had to be quick. So, in one swift motion, I grabbed the red coat and purse and stuffed it in a black bag. It was stressful riding on the bus because I worried that someone might notice what I was carrying. But fortunately, no one did, and I went home. That night, I hung the clothes on a mannequin. This time I kept my curtains shut and went about eating. It was pleasurable sharing my meal with my new catch. The red coat and purse would look lovely in my collections of clothes and dolls. Before I went to bed, I went to visit it. My newest doll, Stacy was positioned with her red coat and purse in the closet. I took a bus to the office and lived a typical life, but no one knew that I liked to collect clothes and belongings from people to put on mannequins. However, I will not discuss how I discard of the wearers of the clothes in case anyone finds this diary entry. As I get comfortable under my covers, I think about how I will find another catch. I guess I could say I am a psychopath, and I have always been this way. When I was a child, I collected animals with their toys. My parents found out and attempted to change me through therapy and counseling, but it did not work. I was sent to a mental health facility, and that is where I spent the rest of my childhood until I turned 18. My parents thought it would help turn me into the child they wanted, but it only served to make me worse. After I turned 18, I had to pretend that I was not going to kill anyone or do anything of the sort to leave. Thankfully, they were stupid enough to believe me, and I was able to land a job in the city at the office. I started my hobby of collecting again, but I found it was displeasing to catch animals because it was difficult to find them with good toys. People were easier. Over the years, I have not had many friends, because of my distaste for their clothing and lifestyle. Most were as dull as my kitchen faucet or sink. The only real"friend" I had was Lucy, but she did not last too long. She was the first and last person I saw as a person, not as an object or a catch to shop for. Being with her also made me wonder if the life I was living was worth anything more. Unfortunately, when I allowed myself to trust her, it ended everything. When showed her my secret, she immediately threatened to report me to the police and screamed how she thought I was "sick" or "psycho." I then told her coldly that she showed me that human interaction is unnecessary, and to leave and never come back. She ran out of the house, screaming that I was a "sick psychopath." It has been two years since then, and I have had no more friends. My parents shunned me, so I do not have them either. Not that I needed them, anyway. Life has been interesting for me, and I hope it continues that way.
Entry #2
Saturday
Well, it is the weekend now, Saturday to be precise. There is nothing much to do in the house now. I have ordered some good food and shopped around outside at the mall for some good catches. So far, I have seen none and my hopes for anything interesting has come up in watching television. The only news on is missing persons, and there are quite a few. That also includes the object I found yesterday. The police are looking for her, but so far, she has not been found. They will not find her, because I have tossed her into the ocean, and they never think first to look there. Everyone I have ever met thinks I am a charming, handsome, and caring person. No one would ever suspect a regular office worker of being a "sick psychopath." Someone is knocking at my door now. No one ever knocks on my door, especially at this time of day. It could be my mailman, delivery person, or maybe a stranger. The knocks get louder as I walk towards the door. As I reach for the doorknob, a single question comes to mind. What if its Lucy?
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1 comment
Sounds like some Ted Bundy stuff. Psychopathy can be hereditary, it can come from a poor environment growing up, or even from a traumatic brain injury. It makes you wonder what could they have possibly gone through to cause them to become a psychopath. Very interesting.
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