BORNtoDIE3

The first time I met him, he told me about his parents. At first, it kind of freaked me out,
getting that personal from the start, but he really won me over with the way he told the story.

I told him he should get into acting. He was good looking, and had a very secure and strong
air about him, and with that voice he could definitely play some awesome father figures when he got older. He said he’d done some porn. I asked if he was any good, and he said yes.
Turns out he lied, but he sure was hung. Perhaps that’s what he meant by good.

His parents had been part of this weird cult thing, that’s how they first met. Some psychiatrist said they had been brainwashed, so they all got separated and spent months in pretty heavy therapy. Years later, his dad was on this tv show talking about the experience, and his mom had seen him. She called the network and somehow got his phone number.

They met, did the nasty, then she killed him. He wouldn’t say how. He was born in prison.
After being released, his mother regained custody of him. She was a good mother, but he ran away when he found out the truth. I said I couldn’t blame him. He said she killed herself. I said I was sorry.

We got engaged, but never married. I don’t believe he was a psychopath. People say he was.
Sometimes he would stare at strangers behind their backs, but he always treated me right. The
sex got better with time, and I never caught him lying to me. He never cried, not even when
Markus died. I once caught him pleasuring himself to gay porn. He said he liked their bodies.

Markus? Who?

Oh yeah, sorry. Markus was our son. He was the most beatiful baby I had ever seen. Seriously, he was like an angel. Like a tiny, torn up angel. When he was born, he was all broken and twisted up. Other children avoided him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He would sit by himself, clapping his hands. He never cried. The doctors said it was because his brain was broken, but I think he got it from his dad. He didn’t even cry when he got hurt, he would just sit down and wait for help.

One day, he got hurt really bad, but we didn’t notice until it was too late. He bled to death
with a faint smile on his lips, like he was enjoying it.

His father saw him, called for an ambulance, but never touched the body.

Jesus christ.

Something like that.

- by my gf