Spoiled Brat

I laugh to myself thinking about my life before I started living out in the country. So dumb... So innocent... That's all gone now. I'm not a child anymore. There is not a glimmer of innocence left in my body.
If I could talk to my younger self... No... If I could come into contact with the 'Me' of all those years ago, I would kill myself. I would make it quick, though. I'd take a knife and stick it into her head. Again and again.Then do the same to my mother of that time period. Make it quick. Make it painless. I love my mom. I don't want her to suffer. My stepfather would be the one I torture.
Take one of his precious tools like his circular saw or his pick axe and start at his limbs. Cut them off slowly, piece by piece. First the fingers, then cut the arm like a cucumber. Slice by slice. I'd let him scream for me to stop. But I wouldn't stop. Not until I feel the bone of the shoulder blades shatter under my handiwork. He taught me so well. Daddy will finally be proud of me! So proud of his special little girl!
I'm not insane though.
I have a good reason to kill myself and my mom. If I killed us both before we moved... Kyahaahaahaaa!!!
I could have avoided everything everything... everything! Let's be friends! Wanna hear my story? I promise to entertain!
I swear to god that I am not insane. Go ahead and read my story. You might think I'm insane, you might say I'm insane, you might swear and believe with all your bleeding heart that I am insane. But I'm not insane. I had a good reason. I always had a good reason.
Before I start the story, I'll give you a brief history of my life story.
I wasn't born in America. I was born in another country. My mom and I came to America when I was three. As an Illegal, most of my rights were taken away and it wasn't even my fault.
When I was six, my mother married my stepfather. He was an American so thanks to him, my mom could stay in America. He wasn't a bad guy to my mom. He was nice to her. It was me he was always an ass to. He worked days while my mom worked nights. After school, I was left all alone with him. My mom knew he kept beers in the fridge.
She never counted them and if she did, she would only assume he drank one a day. Every day there was one less beer can in the fridge than there was the day before. That's because he finished a six pack or more a day. At the ripe age of 6, I had to take my bike and a cooler to a corner store two miles away. The man at the corner store knew my stepdad.
He sold me the six pack without ever asking any questions beyond 'How are you?' or 'How's school going?' I only smiled and said everything is fine. When I got home, my stepdad would punch me and tell me to go clean something somewhere else in our tiny apartment that didn't need cleaning while he gambled with his buddies. My mom sometimes caught sight of a bruise or something once in a while. I told her what my stepdad told me to tell her: I fell.
I hated school. I was always made fun of. I think it was because of my clothes, I always wore big coats and scarves to school. I didn't want anybody my bruises or scars. I even remember that time in fourth grade where he successfully managed to pull out a big chunk of my hair from my scalp. It didn't bleed too much and I could have just combed over it, but he grabbed some kitchen scissors and chopped up my hair. I told everybody I gave myself a haircut all by myself.
It was a punishment and reward system: If I did well, he would buy me what I asked for- I usually asked for books, I was a nerdy kid- If I did bad, he would beat me.
I thought things would change when my mom got pregnant. He was less cruel and drank less often when my mom was expecting his baby. When she went into maternety leave, he never left her side and was a complete sweet heart to her. When my mom went into labor, he even took me to a restaurant.
Ruby was an adorable baby. She hardly ever cried and seemed to always smile. She made him smile too. The beers in the fridge were hardly ever looked at anymore. I was able to wear T-shirts again. And no matter what I asked for, my stepfather gave it to me. Books, video games, television time, all mine.
This is the first time I talked about Ruby in so long... It hurts to remember her. Her smiling face, her adorable cheers... I wonder what her first words would have been. I miss her so much. I loved her so much. I loved you, Ruby.
Then one day, I was so tired... So tired. My mom went to work. I asked my stepdad if I could take a nap.
I swear, I don't know how she ended up outside! I was asleep! I woke up to the sounds of sirens and screaming that night! I was napping!
Come back to me, Ruby! Why did you leave!? Why did you have to leave me all alone!?
They all said it was my fault. I was supposed to be babysitting her, they said. Eheheheehe... I fell asleep and left the door open and she wandered out into the street and got run over. That's the story everybody went with. It was all my fault because I was the big sister.
Because Ruby was my responsibility while my mom was at work and my stepdad was at the carwash. He came back and his wheels were shiny. So shiny. The rest of the pickup truck was all dusty but the wheels were sparkly.
It was you wasn't it? It was you, wasn't it, Daddy?
I asked him that day. I asked him if he killed Ruby. He beat me like he never beat me before. He punched me and kicked me to the floor and for good measure, he took out a knife. A big knife. Shiny knife. So shiny. Pressed against my neck. The cold blade carressing my jawline and his knee crushing my ribcage, I couldn't breathe.
He said if I said anything, I was next! I was next! Kyahahahaahaa!! Sharing an apartment with my sister's killer and I was next!
I was scared! So scared!
Ruby? Ruby? Where are you? What did you do to make him angry? Ruby!? You were innocent. Just like me. More than me. I'm glad you're dead though. You weren't around for the next chapter. You didn't have to see your big sis cry like that! Kyaahhahaa!!
To be continued...
The story was left unfinished on the Creepypasta Wiki for over six months before being deleted on February 11, 2013
Category:Deletion Log Refugees
Category:Bad Creepypasta
Category:Pointless Violence
Category:TOTALLY NOT UNFINISHED U GUIZE
Category:Old Shit