Board Thread:Writer's Showcase/@comment-26214174-20150507192444

There was once a time when many people fished in Lake Natron. I remember going there as a kid with my father. We caught many fish there. Maybe I should back up. My name was Fredrick Simmons, but I’m now known as Fish-hook Freddy. Wanna know how I got my nick-name? It’s a long story, so sit back and relax. It all started one sunny day when I was fishing in the middle of Lake Natron with my father. We were in a small, wooden boat that floated still, since there were no waves. When I flung my fishing rod out into the clear, sparkling lake, something horrible happened. The hook quickly shot back up and caught the corner of my mouth. I fell out of the boat due to the pain reaction in my mouth and as I sunk down, my father’s hook got caught on the other corner of my mouth. The line wrapped around my head and soon snapped after being tangled and strained. The excruciating pain caused me to wake up from my daze and start hallucinating. I started thinking that it was my dad’s fault. As I was swimming up to the surface, I thought, “How could my own dad do such a thing?” I was playing the blame game. My father saw me and gave a startled yell. I was dripping dark, crimson blood into the water and onto the boat as he helped me into it. He tried to take out the hooks but I decided that I should stop him. I had finally done it. I had gone completely insane. I quickly grabbed a 5 inch spare hook from the tackle box and swiftly cut his throat. “Sorry daddy, this is on you. He he,” I chuckled. His eyes widened as he gurgled one last thing. “Tha--t ca--n’t b--e yo--u.” I dumped him in the lake and rowed myself back to shore. When I arrived back on land, I looked at the bloody five inch hook and had an idea. I liked the idea of having the hook stick out of my hand for a sufficient weapon. I took that hook and wincing slightly, I jutted it in my wrist and pulling my hand off my own hand. I inserted the hook into my soft flesh so the blade would stick out. On that day, I realized what I had become. My sister and mother were next. I planned it out carefully. My family knew that my father and I would be camping overnight so they wouldn’t be expecting me late or early. I had to sneak in at night, making sure they were asleep so I could wake them up and show them my new self. The night came upon me and I started out to my house. I wasn’t going to be able to get home by foot so I took my dad’s car and drove. It was my first time because I was only 14 but I wasn’t too bad. Maybe it was just blind rage that made me crash once. I finally arrived at my house. The lights were off except for one kitchen light. We always leave that on in case some criminals are planning on a break in. It kind of makes it seem like people are still awake and doing their normal stuff. I slowly got out of the car, quietly closed the door, and carefully tiptoed to my house. Once I had carved a hole into the glass window with my dads fishing knife that I had taken, I dropped into my living room. My sister Mary was upstairs to the left, my mom to the right. I guess my sister would be first. She would be easy to kill. The old wooden door to her room creaked open and I winced at the thought of being caught. The plan was to cover her mouth with a blanket, give her time to see who it is, and slit her throat just like I had done to my wretched dad. It was go time. I swiftly ran up to her sleeping body and covered her mouth with the blanket that was covering her sleeping body. “MMMHMMHHMM!” Was the muffled sound that she made when I stood over her. Then, she silently stared at my face, confused. All of a sudden, she realized what I was going to do with the hook embedded in my right arm and started to cry. “Shhh” I said. It will be over soon. I slit her throat slowly, enjoying the beautiful blood flowing from the wound. She gagged on the blood and the blanket and went completely limp after about five seconds. To bad for her because I felt little stab of remorse deep inside. No. The new me didn’t feel remorse. I then went to my parent’s bedroom. I guess she heard me come in because she asked me “Sweetie, why are you home so early? Where is your father?” She didn’t see my face in the pitch black so she had nothing to worry about for now. “Hello mom, I am not the one who’s gonna leave early, you are.” I murmured. “Huh?” Came her last sane response. I ran over to her bed and rose my hook up. She screamed but I didn’t care, Mary was already gone. “I’m sorry mom, I killed Mary. Wait… actually I’m not sorry.” I dug my hook into her jugular and pulled something out. I don’t know what it was but it must have been her throat. It was done, but for some reason I felt more remorse despite the new me. I remembered the times we had… the whole family times we had. We snuggled and hugged and ate dinner together. It was all over. No more troubles, parents or annoying sisters. Nowadays, I will roam the streets as a serial killer. I will only kill people a mile from water. I don’t know why I do it, but something just pulls me toward the lake. To this day, I still think think about my family and how in ways…. they weren’t that bad. 