Diary of a Killer

Chapter 14

Diary Of A Killer
Chapter Fourteen||
Diary Entry Seven
Dear diary, February 12, 2015
I did it. We did it. We destroyed everything. But I don't know what happened. Something went wrong. l didn't mean to. And now in siting with tape, whiteout, my diary, and tears. But it happened. After we destroyed everything I realized l dropped my phone somewhere I didn't want anyone to know I was there if they found it and be able to trace all we did back to us, so went looking for it. checked behind the studio, in the studio her house, around her house, when I found it in front of her house. I grabbed it and went to run. Then I paused. saw a can of spray paint and a golf club that got left behind. I picked them up, didn't want Abby to find them and is to get traced back to this noticed part of the car looked nice-AKA not smashed. I thought I should put a few more dents in it. l tucked my phone in my pocket and put the paint down, pulled the golf club back and thrusting it at the car. hit it a few times. Right as I went to give it one last swing, bright lights flash on me, lighting up everything around me. Brakes slam, and a car door opens. Abby got out, and ran over screaming. I froze. She wasn't suppose to catch me. I don't know what happened. was scared. It wasn't supposed to happen. She couldn't find out it was me. She went to grab me and call the police I would rot in jail alone m not gonna rat the rest of them out. reached for the gun and pointed it at her head. I pulled the trigger as the gun-shot rang out. As her body fell to the ground, blood flooding out. froze. My stomach knotted I stumbled back. I thought the l grabbed the paint and golf club. tucked the gun back in its spot. Iran. All the way to this back alley, behind the dumpster. It wasn't supposed to happen should of been home free. She shouldn't of came home Then he'd be alive. I wouldn't be a killer. I wouldn't be cutting out all the names and taping and whiting them out so l won't be caught. Abby should still be alive, just miserable. Now she's dead, and I'm a killer. A murderer. I won't write anymore. I'm to scared to. I can't be caught. l'll go home o and hide this. No one can see this. No one can find the diary of the killer. l have to go now, The Walking Dead's on at 11:30 and if I miss it my mom will know something's up. Goodbye, forever.