When I was a child I used to kill little animals to see them die. We had a family cat we raised from a kitten named Poppy. My sister woke me up one morning screaming, Poppy had disappeared. But I knew where she was. She was in a box under my bed. When the stench got too bad I buried her in the field behind the house.
As I got older, I started killing bigger things. My mum was pregnant with my step dads first baby. They named him William. But we called him Bart when he was in the womb, like the cartoon character we all know.
I didn't want a brother, I didn't want a new member of the family. I was stealing science equipment from the school lab, a bunsen burner and some chemicals. I had no idea what the chemicals were, but they weren't fatal to ingest (I know because I drank them).
I was very meticulous in my method. Smart for a kid of ten years. I lined the inside of the kettle with a chemical. The only people in the household who drank coffee were my mum and step dad. I knew that the chemical wouldn't cause any sideaffects or show up on any scans of the day, nor would it affect the kidney or liver, it would target the womb.
It didn't work.
I waited in my room until my parents were asleep and snuck into their room. I punched my mum in the stomach as hard as I could once.
The miscarriage was so traumatic for my mum that they never tried to have another baby. My step dad turned to drink and is still an alcoholic today. I loaned him a tenner today which he'll use to buy vodka.
You can tell who you want, I don't care if I get caught. They'll need evidence anyway. It won't even go to court. Don't fuck with me.
I've done some bad fucking shit in my time.