Status: Please, be gentle.
Dear Tate
Godly
Dear Tate,
Everyone is dead and I blame you. I have to. I enjoyed it, Tate.
It's weird to think about the way things were before—how squeamish I used to be. The blood excites me now. I can neither explain nor begin to understand the sensation.
When it was finished, I panicked. I thought about you—how afraid I was that I wouldn't get to see you again if I'd gotten caught. You told me once that death was a mercy. It didn't feel that way.
It wasn't until I really saw the mess I had made that I grew angry with you. The power was addicting, but of course you know that. I want that feeling again, that feeling of having someone's life in my hands, that power to determine their fate. It's Godly.
I buried them in the basement. I don't even know if the cops ever found them. They probably think I'm dead too. They should. You murdered the girl I used to be.
Everyone is dead and I blame you. I have to. I enjoyed it, Tate.
It's weird to think about the way things were before—how squeamish I used to be. The blood excites me now. I can neither explain nor begin to understand the sensation.
When it was finished, I panicked. I thought about you—how afraid I was that I wouldn't get to see you again if I'd gotten caught. You told me once that death was a mercy. It didn't feel that way.
It wasn't until I really saw the mess I had made that I grew angry with you. The power was addicting, but of course you know that. I want that feeling again, that feeling of having someone's life in my hands, that power to determine their fate. It's Godly.
I buried them in the basement. I don't even know if the cops ever found them. They probably think I'm dead too. They should. You murdered the girl I used to be.