I don't recognise myself. This isn't me. My baby wouldn't want this but she's not here and that's the whole reason I have to see this through. He's banging again but I tune it out, he can make as much noise as he likes, it won't change his fate and it won't change mine! Seems I underestimated the fuckers will to keep living his pathetic excuse for a life but I’ve been watching and waiting and now I have him. I'm going to take my time and savour every ounce of pain I inflict on the worthless piece of shit. He's sorry- tough. He's scared- good. He's suffering- about time.
I'm trying to keep my cool and be patient, I have plans for him, very carefully and methodically laid out plans and I’d be doing him and myself a disservice if I rush this. I have to hold back, keep my composure and hold on to the scrap of sanity I still have but truth be told I’m eager, way too fucking eager to tear him apart, the pain I’ve held on to since losing Enola gets stronger. I’m ready to break but I just need to complete this last act before I join her.
They all left me, my mother, my father and now Enola. I feel cursed, how much loss can one person take? I've had enough of every ones pity and their so called helpful advice, 'times a healer' 'it'll get better' 'she's in a better place.' What the fuck do they know, they didn't know her, they didn't know the horrendous things she went through, they didn't know how brave, considerate and inspirational she really was.
Her life was nothing but pain and fear and all because of the monster currently lying in my boot. I wonder how he's enjoying it, he had no qualms about locking Enola in his. I think I might drive around for a few more hours.
I have nothing but time- time to kill!!!