It’s about this time of night that the bad thoughts start. The really triggering ones. During the day I’m totally fine. I have no evidence that I’m evil.
If I sit down and be still, that’s when the memories come up. I don’t think they sound as bad when I write them as they actually are. I feel like I’m an evil human. I have not discussed it with my therapist. I’m too ashamed.
Did anyone else have homicidal thoughts when you were triggered? As a child? I know I couldn’t have acted on them. Brandi wanted me to kill her and I couldn’t. Just the plan left me so guilty that I ended up underweight for a year. When I saw a... hallucination, I guess, of her going toward the bathroom in the high school all lumpy and dead and twitchy — it still haunts my dreams. I feel crazy.
She thought it was cool. She made me take her to the bathroom. It was near the auto shop. I was a student in the automobile shop, changing break drumbs on ambulances that were more old fashion. And changing the massive tires on fire trucks. My dad is a mechanic. He’s responsible for most scams. But he’s known for understanding vehicles so the teacher liked me being there.
That bathroom had a shower in it that didn’t turn on, and didn’t have a light. It felt like such a surreal thing to stand in there and have Brandi ask me if I could see anything in the Mirror. The Mirror could see things nornal people couldn’t. I keep dreaming about it. But I deserved it. That’s what I got for tricking Brandi. That’s what I got for threatening Sydney. That’s what I got for bullying her and my brother. It doesn’t matter that my dad taught me to. I did it. Because then some of the other kids bullied me less.
I was nice in high school. In middle school I was just depressed. I can’t mix these memories for some reason. It’s like I have five heads. Five versions of the past. My brain just doesn’t want to let it go.