22nd November, 2010
Dear Diary,
Today it was worse. Much worse. I’m trying to ignore it, to not let it affect me but I’m slowly going insane. I can’t escape my own head; the voice in my head taunts me, laughs at me, and controls me. Darkness is taking a hold of me and I’m scared that I will do something stupid, without even realising, I’m scared to sleep and I’m scared to wake. Last night, I had another nightmare, I dreamt I killed my family; little Lisa was first, her screams were silenced by a swift kick in the gorge. Then mamma, peeling her scalp from her head, her hair draped through my fingers as the blood began to stain her once golden hair. Papa was last, he was a bastard and I resented him, no, it was more than resentment, it was pure, evil, hatred. I wanted him to suffer the most; I wanted him to be in agony, flicking the covers off his unconscious body I slit his shaft. When I awoke from the dream I was standing in the doorway of my parents’ bedroom, my knuckles were white as stone.
I’m scared my dreams will turn into reality; I’m scared the voice in my head will make me do bad things…again.
Someone, anyone, help.
-Sam

23rd November, 2010
Dear Diary,
I killed my best friend today.
I didn’t mean to, I tried to stop the voices in my, I tried to block it out but I wasn’t strong enough. The voice in my head told me to kill him, so I did. We were waiting at the bus stop, chatting, laughing, when the voice in my head whispered “Kill, Kill. He must die. He hates you, he must die”. As our bus approached the curb I pushed him. I could hear every single bone in his body crunch under the tires of the bus, blood trickled into the drain. “Good job” the voice said. I couldn’t move, I was frozen, numb.
He is dead and I am happy.
-Sam

25th November, 2010
Dear Diary,
My father has locked me in this room. He must die too. They all must die.
-Sam

26th November, 2010
Dear Diary,
My father is dead. I blew his brains out last night, when he came to feed me. A 22 revolver had been sitting, waiting at the bottom of my wardrobe for months and it finally got its chance to shine. My father’s brains splattered against my door, I enjoyed seeing the look of horror in his eyes when he saw me, standing in front of the door, gun in hand. I killed him and I am happy.
My mother is dead too. She deserved to die for loving that bastard. I blew her brains out too.
Lisa is hungry and there is nothing to eat except my parents.
The smell of my parents cooking awoke me from my erratic trance the voice had put me. I looked down into the bubbling brew of bones and blood, I feel sick.
I’m trapped in my own head and there is no escape.
-Sam

27th November, 2010
Dear Diary,
Last night I couldn’t sleep, every time I did I dreamt I was killing Lisa. The voice in my head keeps tautening me “Just kill her already or are you scared?” “Come on, don’t be a coward, just kill her!” “She doesn’t even love you, she hates you”. The voices keep swimming around in my head, my own thoughts are drowning in this sea of delusion and psychosis. I hate my own company but I have killed everyone I love. I don’t know what is real and what isn’t.
I can see the walls turning into huge, taunting faces, laughing at me, patronizing me with their judging eyes. I can hear it saying “Everyone hates you. Everyone must die” over and over and over…
Lisa was at the foot of my bed, watching crumble with insanity, I looked crazy yet frightened, like I was two different people. Her face was filled with innocence and she looked at me with tender, caring eyes. My heart melted and for a few brief moments, I felt normal. “Kill her, Kill her, Kill her” the voice chanted, over and over again. I lunged at my sister with great velocity, pinning her to the wooden floor boards (still stained with my father’s blood), with one hand I picked up a pair of nearby scissors, while the other kept her pinned. I bludgeoned my sister to death. She is dead and I am happy.

-Sam
28th November, 2010
Dear Diary,
I’ve locked myself in the wardrobe. I want to be alone; I don’t want to hurt anyone else. I’m a hideous monster, covered in my family’s blood. I know what I must do. I have to stop the ridiculing voice in my head; I have to make it stop. “Sam, you’re worthless. You mean nothing to anyone and everyone around you knows that you are worthless. Sam, you’re crazy, I’m your only friend. Your only friend is in your head. You’re a freak.” “STOP IT! STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE!” I had screamed, trying to make it go away but it wouldn’t…”You’re a freak Sam. Freak, Freak, Freak”.
I picked up the scissors.
I speared at the voice in my head, plunge the blunt object into my head. The voice wouldn’t go away, no matter how many times I tried to kill it. I didn’t even notice the red liquid rushing from my head, all I could hear was the ringing of the voice “Freak, Freak, Freak. Die, Die, Die”.
I’m dying and I am happy.
-Sam