It all began when I was 5. I don't remember much. But I do remember hearing voices. Lots of voices. They continually bugged me. That was just the start of the problems. When I was 6, my grandparents died in a car crash. My family was sad. Really sad. But i wasn't. I'd been told it was going to happen. The voices told me about it. They explained every bit in gory detail.I hated it. I resented it. I feared it. But it did not make me cry. When I told my parents, we went to see a doctor. The instruments used were... strange. They told me I would need medication. I never took it.around the age of 10, It grew worse.
The voices were louder. They were violent. I started dropping in grades at school.Often I would lash out.Two students died while I attended school. The parents were told it was an accident, that they had been on their way to a lesson, when an electronic cable had slammed into them, electrocuting them.But I knew better. I knew what had really happened.Thanks to a friend of mine who wished to someday join the Lane Hackers, we were able to temporarily close down the power to the school. While the power was off, I cut through the wire. I held the wire, and let it drop. I let the power come back on, and kill them. I killed them. Then, when I was 15, two more people 'died'. My parents. That day, I was angrier than usual. The voices kept getting louder and louder. I grabbed my father. I pulled him to the floor. I pulled a potato peeler out from in the kitchen. starting from his extremities; his toes, his fingers, i slowly peeled his skin back. He finally begged for mercy, so I gave it to him. I slit his neck. I then spun round, and slit my mothers throat as well. Then. The voices stopped. the pain was immense, but the voices had stopped. I needed the voices back. I threatened to myself I would slit my own throat. It worked. It brought the voices back. I was now a criminal though, and was forced to leave pennsylvania. I travelled and travelled, not able to find somewhere safe. Three years passed, and I finally found a place. Alcatraz Depot. California. I Now work alongside the rest of the Liberty Rogues, as a bog-standard rogue. I do not wish to murder anymore, but i fear that if caught i would be forced into prison, they would give me 40 years, but they would never release me anyway.
