I am a Serial Killer

By James moylan

Timmothy killes his father when only ten and his mother takes the blam. He has the bug for killing. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: James moylan
• Release date: Sep 23, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507046043

James moylan

FORMER BRICKLAYER. WHO STARTED WRITING WHEN I RETIRED IN 2,000.I HAVE BEEN MARRIEDE FOR 58 YEARS TO MY WONDERFULL WIFE VERONICA 3 SONS ALL OVER 50.  6 GRAND KIDS 3 GREAT GRAND KIDS

Book preview

I was ten years 0ld when my father came home from the Vietnam War, I remember I loved my mother very much, and she loved me. I found out later that they had been married for just three years before I was born, then soon after he went to war. I was ten when he came home for good. That day will be etched on my brain, until the day I die. Which I do not think will be very far away as I am on death rowing...it must have been either Saturday or Sunday because I was not at school. I had a black and white rabbit I called Mickey, I kept Mickey in the back garden most of the time, but I did keep him in a hutch when the weather was bad. We also had a dog I called him Sandy he was a brown and white Border collie. He was a handsome nine-year-old, who was really my father’s dog, but I loved him more than he did. If you’re wondering how Mickey and Sandy got on not very well at first. Sandy would chase Mickey around the garden but Mickey would escape into his hutch. Mickey is now 2 years old, and they are now getting on very well... my mother never told me my dad was coming home I had never seen him until that horrible day. I was reading my book, when this very heavy knock sounded on the front door. Sandy barked as he always did when someone came to the door. My mother smiled as she went to open the door. The door creaked as usual as she opened it and in stepped my dad. His head just cleared the door casing. I had never seen anybody as big as my dad. He had hardly any hair on what I thought was a very big head. You know what I mean short and spiky. He had a very funny nose, long and bent to his right side, his eyes were dark brown, very big and glare. He wore a black suite a white shirt with blue and white tie...although I was only ten at the time, every small detail of that day is embedded in my memory bank...my mother put her arms around his neck and kissed him. She said with a big beaming smile. Welcome home John. She then turned towards me. This is your daddy, say hello. I remember saying hello daddy. I also remember being very scared of him, as he looked at me with those very hard eyes. And no wonder why, when he said, so this is my son, he looks a soft little bugger to me Mary. My mother’s smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. Don’t call him a buger John, he’s a good boy...suddenly his right arm shot out and the back of his hand hit her across her left cheek, forcing her backwards. She screamed out with pain. Don’t tell me what to say in my own house. He was  going to hit her again, I don’t know to this day why I did what I did. I jumped up and kicked him in his right leg just below his knee, shouting leave my mother alone; you’re not my dad. The kick didn’t hurt him. He came after me, and for my bravery he hit me with his left hand on the back of my head. Knocking me to the floor.

Well at least he has shown some fight. Perhaps he is my son after all. I stayed on the floor feeling very dizzy. Then I was suddenly plucked of the floor like a rag doll. He held me under my arms. From that moment I hated him. I riddled and kicked as much as I could, shouting put me down. I hate you for hitting my mother, you’re a bully you’re a bully. Then I felt my foot sink into his stomach. A sound of pain came from his mouth; the next moment I was flying through the air, I landed on the couch. I bounced of the cushions and landed on the back of the couch hurting my head. I saw my mother coming towards me but he stopped her by grabbing her left arm as she went past him. He twisted his face with temper.

She was helpless as he squeezed her wrists at the front of him. She was terrified off him as he pushed his face close to hers. I don’t think for a moment that little bastard, is my child. But he has got the balls to be mine. So I will bring him up as mine. He let go of my mother’s arms, and then went over to his dog Sandy to his surprise the dog cowered away in fear, but he still bent down and patted it on the head. There will be no pets other than my dog. I could tell he could not remember his own dogs name, he looked around the room, then at me with those dark brown eyes, they seemed to pear straight through to your brain. I don’t mind admitting I was scared stiff. I remember at that moment I wanted to get a knife and stab him in the stomach. He in that short a time had made me in to a potential killer, though at the time I didn’t think so. Bloody hell I was only 10. He looked around the room once again. Ware’s the bloody dog? He shouted at me. I felt my body shake with fear and I could not say a word. He turned towards my mother, I said were the dog. I had never seen so much fear in my mother’s blue eyes before. He raised his right hand as though he was going to hit her once, again. She brought her arms in front of her face for protection. This time he chose not to hit her. I plucked the courage up and went over. The dog is in the garden I told him I didn’t want him hitting her again. I said to him I will bring him back inside the house, I opened the door and ran into the garden. I hoped he wouldn’t follow me I didn’t want him seeing Mickey, my pet rabbit. He had just said he didn’t want any more animals in the house, only his dog Sandy. But he was also my dog I had brought him up as my pet dog, I had fed him, I had taken him for walks when I was old enough. Sandy was lying in the sun at the top of the garden.

He looked fast asleep. But to my horror my beast of a father shot past me, when he’d seen Sandy. My mother and I watched horrified has he nudged Sandy, in his stomach with his right boot. I ran closer. He kicked Sandy, in the stomach a little harder get up you stupid mutt, he shouted. Sandy had never been treated like that before. He jumped up. Then cowered back in fear I didn’t go close to this bully man, I knew he would hit me for the second time. But I shouted at him as loud as I could. Stop kicking him he doesn’t like it. He turned towards me with a scowl on his evil face. He was just about to say something. When his face changed as he looked past me.

What is that thing in the corner? He asked, I turned he was referring to my rabbits hutch. His long stride took him past me. I ran after him not wanting him to get close to my rabbit. I grabbed him by the left arm with both of my hands and shouted at him, leave Mickey, alone; he stopped and looked down at me. I still held on to his arm as hard as I could. Let go boy, he couldn’t even say my name, not until you promise to leave my rabbit alone. Then he snatched his arm from my hands hurting my fingers, as he did so he bent down and grabbed me at the top of my arms I felt his strong fingers digging into my shoulders. He then shook me very hard. Never do that again or I will give you the best beating you have ever had. Then he shoved me to the floor. Now for your rabbit he said, I shall never forget his smile as he strode towards Mickey’s, hutch. By now my mother was standing in front of the hutch. No John please dont touch his pet rabbit he thinks the world of it. By now I had got to my feet, I ran as fast as I could, but I could not stop him forcing my mother away from the hutch with a shove. He opened the door of the hutch and looked into it. He reached into it and pulled Mickey, out with his right hand. He held Mickey, at arm’s length with its white ears. I knew somehow that he was about to kill Mickey, so I looked around for something to hit him with, I saw a piece of wood lying just beside the shed. So I picked it up and went over to where he was holding Mickey, and hit him on his right shin-bone. He screamed in pain and let Mickey, falls to the floor. I rushed over to be Mickey, lay motionless, I was sure he was dead; I picked him up and saw that the top of his head was bleeding and it looked as though his neck was broken. I placed him back on the floor. Then went and picked the same piece of wood up. At that moment more than anything I wanted to kills the man who had killed my pet rabbit. But he was still hopping around rubbing his right shin-bone. I spotted my chance and hit him again on his left shin. He fell to the floor like a sack of flower. I can’t explain the feeling I had at that moment as I lifted the piece of wood over my head. I could see the blazing fear in his brown eyes as the piece of wood I held was going at a pace towards his head. He put his arms up to protect himself. I heard the crunch of bone as the wood hit his right forearm. He once again yelled out in pain. I could now see his head. So I kept hitting it as much as I could, until my mother stopped me. I looked down at my dad, his face was all mashed up and blood was pouring out of it. I had killed for the first time and I felt good, I knew he had deserved it. I looked at my mother, strange but she looked very calm.

She took me by the shoulders. I am going to telephone the police. So I will take the blame for killing your father. But you must back me up, do you understand what I am saying...it was now sinking in what I had done and what would happen to me. I knew they would take my mother away when she told them she had killed bully man. I don’t know how long it was before the police came but when they did I just sat there, and I heard her tell them she had killed him because she had lost her temper when he had killed my rabbit.

They had introduced themselves as inspector Calderwood and Sergeant Bridger. I would never see Calderwood again, but I would see Bridger, again but not for a while. They asked me some questions, I just kept saying, she kept hitting him with the piece of wood, because he killed my pet rabbit. I was now feeling sick as another policeman came over and took my mother away; she never even looked at me as she left. I never saw my mother again.

CHAPTER TWO

Later a woman came and took me on a long car ride to a home with some more boys and girls I was taken to a room were a fat woman was sitting behind a big black desk. The woman who had brought me sat down while I was made to stand in front of the fat woman. To my surprise the fat woman smiled at me. What is your name little boy? She asked. Timothy Woods I said she looked at the other woman who had brought me here. The smile had gone replaced by a frown. Why is he hear we don’t have much room, you know that don’t you Miss Cookson, I’m sorry Mrs Palmer, but I didn’t have much choice in the matter. It seemed his mother killed his father and now he is left on his own, and you have got to feel sorry for him, what a mother she turned out to be. At that moment I felt like hitting her in the mouth because I knew she was wrong about my mother. But of course she didn’t know that, and at least she was on my side. I am sorry Miss Cookson, you are right, you didn’t have much choice thank you for bringing him in, leave him with me, and she never said another word she just left. I never saw her again. Mrs Palmer was I think a nice woman so I would have to stop calling her in my mind a fat woman. She picked up the phone; I could not make out what she said. Then the door opened and in walked another woman; I had never seen a woman with red hair before. She was very young and not bad looking even for a ten years old boy like me...this is Timothy Woods, Liza, could you find him a bed. She looked at me and smiled. Come with me Timothy, she had a gentle voice just like my mother. She led me through this big double door into the biggest room I had ever seen. There were beds on either side. There were no other boys in this room. We walked the full length of the room then stopped at the last bed on the right. I was getting really scared, I wanted my mother. This is your bed Timothy, if you do as your told you will be alright, but if not you will get the cane, do you understand Timothy, at that moment I wanted to cry, but I fought the tears back, and just said I understand but I didn’t really, for a start I didn’t know what the cane was, and she no longer sounded like my mother. She said follow me, this I did back through the double doors we had just come through, we turned left and went through a door facing us. I could not believe my eyes. The room was full of kids having their dinner. Everybody in that room stopped talking, and all their heads turned towards me. We walked to the middle of the room were the kitchen was she said to the woman who was standing were all the food was, give Timothy, some food will you Teresa, I wondered if her second name was Green. She ladled something into a bowl, and then placed it on to the counter, I could just reach it. Again she said follow me. I thought I’d better start calling her by her name.  Yes Miss Conway, I know what I’d like to call her. I had never been bossed about so much and I did not like it. We arrived at an empty chair at the end the table; she pointed at it, and said sit there. This I did, sat beside me was a blond boy. I was really scared I was ten years old, it was my first day in a strange place and I was sitting next to a boy who was bigger than me. So I started eating whatever was in my bowl, I had to eat it I was so hungry. What’s your name boy? The blond boy asked me, I did not like him so I looked at my bowl, without answering. He grabbed me by the neck and forced me to look at him. For some reason all the fear I had for this boy left my body, replaced by the same feeling I had when I had killed the man who had killed my rabbit. I now hated this boy who I did not really know.