Family Traditions

Another boring evening at home, even with the pandemic restrictions over and freedoms restored I haven’t been out in months. I don’t have even one friend who I could meet up with. Sat at home bored and applying for job after job and getting nothing despite possessing a PhD. I won eight thousand pounds through exchange betting but then my luck ran out and I lost the whole lot and £2500 of my own money as well. Desperately trying to win it back just means more losses but my brain can’t seem to comprehend that and again i'm back looking at odds and thinking how did I win eight grand and lose it. I’m in my mid 30s and still at home living with my parents. My brother is in his 40s and never moved out - no excuses for him, he’s got a well paid job and in good health unlike me. I’m not depressed though. I just need a job and for things to go my way.

The lighthouse is a 45 minute walk from my house and the docks are just five minutes away. If I ever need perspective, I go to the bridge that overlooks the docks and I can see into the distance and focus on the central London skyline and beyond. I take my camera and take photos of the water, it’s peaceful and tranquil and a place where anyone would be able to clear their head. I can’t start to feel sorry for myself because then I’d feel like giving up, and I don’t want to give up, as I had such an active life and I just know something better is on the horizon despite it not seeming that way.

Last week’s photos, I need to check them and edit them and submit them to a photo competition - there’s prize money, which I never win but still it keeps me going. Scrolling through, scrolling through – oh, what is that? What’s that kind of bobbing and creating ripples in the water? Let me zoom in. Oh, oh god, no, I feel sick, I’m going to vomit. It’s a decapitated head, can’t tell if it’s male or female but I get the feeling it’s female, or a child even. Ugh, I need to bag to vomit in, damn now it’s on the floor. There’s a head, a human head, in the damn water.

Oh god, what’s this flashback. Oh no, no no no. I could never. No. Me? Me! No, I’m going mental, it’s my mind playing tricks on me, I’m not. I’m not a. I’m not a killer. Ughhh. I’m writhing. Oh god no, dragging her as she walked peacefully enjoying the same tranquility as me, hi how are you, nice day. Crisp air. Her last breaths. Oh I guess because I said hi nice day she thought it’d be safe. That she’d be safe. I bludgeoned her, in broad daylight, in this silent empty space, desolate. Crisp autumn sunlight of the early morning, severed her head and chucked it into the water along with her body in small pieces. I model myself on American Psycho, but the female version. I wish I had never joined the cult, but, they’re always there for me. I know that what I’m doing for them, severing these heads, it’s natural and only right. Oh mum, hi, yeah iv done it. It’s just part of who we are. It’s just part of my upbringing and who we are as people. We’ve been doing this for generations and never once been caught. No matter what else happens, she’s proud of me, he’s proud of me, my parents are happy that I’m continuing the family tradition.