Article of a Murderess

Most recently, the newspaper editor from my home town
arrived to my padded cell to request that I write an article
stating as to why I have committed the crimes that I have, After
a few days of contemplating, I cautiously agreed, only if I am
heard without any bias. With this agreement written in stone, I
will explain my side of the story. Now, mind you, it is told
through my eyes,`at a time in life when my mind was not too well.

Now, I don’t know when my mind became disillusioned or why,
although I have gotten increasingly better since I have committed
these horrific acts. It seems that my brain seemed to stop trying
to be literate to the world around me.

Anyway, I began to characterize myself as a heiress to many
of the world’s mysterious riches that lie beneath the endless
seas. I also imaged myself as a very sought after bachlorite. In
my “worldly mind”, my life was a fairy-tale. Although, now, I
know that I was delirious. To me, Nathan Van Dean was my
political match that the world wanted. We were to be the perfect
couple. I had to have him.

Nathan, with his knight in shining armor looks, was the son
of the richest man in the whole state of Tennessee. He was on
heir to a fortune in different types of companies. Of course,
with all this said, he was every females’ fantasy. Unfortunately
he had a rather serious relationship with a southern Alabama
heiress to a manure fortune. I, of course, thought this was
ironic since my ideals of her were made up of what her fortune
was based on, with her in the picture, I had to be rid of her
before I could take Nathan’s heart.

Soon, I began to follow-although I’m sure many call it
stalking-Nathan. His routine was normal and very predictable. He
awoke at eight a.m. and left to go to his office building at ten.
At twelve-thirty, he would leave for lunch at the local cafe for
exactly thirty minutest six p.m., he would close the building and
go to the manure heiress. He would not leave until ten p.m. All
of this, he did everyday, overtime.

Ten days after I had his daily Russian understood, I congaed
a scheme, more a less, to be rid of this manure heiress. My
scheme involved waiting for Nathan to venture on home after his
vista with her. I invited myself in through the back door that
lead through the kitchen and into the dining/ballroom. I made my
way up a long, spiraling stairs to the third floor. My common
knowledge was that her suit was down the first left hall.

“Oh Miss Manure!” I sung out in a very mock tone.

At this point, as I moved closer to the suit, I realized
that I never thought of a way to kill her without incriminating
myself to her “accidental” death. Then, it flashed deeply inside
my head. I would knock her on the head with a blunt object only
to make it seem as if she slipped and fell. This, I did.

In her suit, she was making a wrinkled bed that seemed to
have been recently used as a sexual home. This angered me since I
had the ideals of Nathan as a pure gentleman who was saving
himself for me. With my anger fired bright, I grabbed something
off the floor-to this day I have no clue as to what it was
although they say that it was a rather large hair dryer- and
pummeled her in the head a few times before the object fell to
the floor.

It seems cruel, but her blood was warm as it splashed over
my face and arms. The psychopaths mood that I was in led me to
take the plug-in- even though I didn’t realize at the time that
it was the plug-in- and stuffed it into her womanly parts. When I
realized that this would make it look like murder, not an
accident, I hurriedly pulled the cord out and laid her head on
the hairdryer.

With all that stuff said, I would like to mention something,
I was crazy at the time and understand this was a very morbid way
to kill someone. But, my lapse in judgement caused me to see this
young woman as a common whore who stole the purity from my love.
Yes, I do say, that I was insane.

(And on to the finish line.) I arrived at Nathan’s home
angry and hurt. This man that I have seen and loved as a pure in
dividual. This caused my brain to congaed another plan of murder.
But this time, it would be no accident.

It was black for me past that.-All I know that happened was
what I was told by police and others.-I had gone into his home
and attacked him as he slumbered. I had apparently ripped all his
“manhood” organs off his body. As he screamed is pain, I slammed
his chest with a five pound weighted object. The blow stopped his
heart.

I was caught not long after that, only to be sent to his
white padded room “so I won’t hurt others.” I never intended to
hurt anyone. I was just psychotic. However, my story is told from
my point of view and this is all I wanted. And to let people
understand that some people can’t help being mentally UN-well.

Editors Note: Most of the happenings have been excelled from this
articles since it was to barbaric. Also, the hospital requested
to have the woman’s name and the hospital to be excluded from
this article to protect her.