Joey Stuart was seven years old when he first felt the agony
within his mind. And realized how easy it could be to fall into
such insanity. Ever since he had started school, he had endured
the sarcastic words of his classmates. Yet, he took it, keeping
the rage and anxiety deep within him, never to let it be shown.
But as every year went by, he could feel it building stronger and
stronger. Not knowing to what linit or extent it would push him.
The only thing, which he wanted, was to find an escape from it
all. Just to let go of that rage and find the peace his soul
It was in the middle of the summer when he started to feel the
stress of it all taking effect. He lay there on top of his bed;
his eyes gazing out at the summer sky, watching the clouds float
across a sea of light blue. Just like he had done so many other
times before in the last couple months. When he just wanted to
forget about all that was going on in his life. Of course, like
so many other times before it never worked. But now he found
himself hearing a voice in his head. It was soft as a whisper and
yet its words burned in the recesses of his mind.
"Look at you laying there, so pitiful. Joey, you have to make
them pay. Make them all pay for their ignorance. They hurt you.
Now you must make them pay." the voice said.
"What do you mean?"
"All those who have hurt you. Not only your classmates, but the
others who are guilty too."
In a way Joey knew what the voice meant, but wasn't willing to
believe it. His eyes glances around the room at the horror
posters, figures, comic books and other objects from horror
movies. It was the only thing he found himself fascinated with.
Like some kind of escape, which he loved, even though his mother
could never understand. But in a way he really didn't care any
more. That was his world, his one place where no one couold touch
"Who are you? Where are you?" he asked in a terrified
"I'm closer to you than you think." the voice said so
It was then he could hear the sound of his mother arguing with
her new boyfriend, Tom. Just from the sound of their voices and
his mother's screams, he could tell their fight had gone beyond
the normal verbal arguing. Listening to her hurtful screams, his
yelling and the crqashing of furniture against the floor and
walls. The volume of it had grown even stronger, more than he had
ever heard it. His hands covered his ears, trying to block out
those horrid sounds. But it was no use. Then joey heard the voice
again. This time it was more forceful than before. So strong that
he could not ignore it.
"Don't let him do that to your mother. To the woman who gave you
life. Make him pay. Stop the pain which your mother is
"No! No, I can't!" Joey whispered as a tear fell down his
Even though Joey wanted to ignore what the voice said, he found
himself unable to resist. its words clouded his mind, making it
impossible for him to push it away. For the year that his mother
and Tom had lived together, this was something Joey had to deal
with. Keeping his mouth shut, never to be able to reveal how he
felt about the whole thng. Yet, he found himself unable to ignore
it any longer. All that he wanted was for their fighting to end.
And in his mind he knew that it would only be him that could stop
"You know what to do, so do it. Show him venreance for the sins
he does." the voice said.
Before Joey could say another word, he got out of bed and started
to make his way to the door. Down the narrow hallway he crept, so
that way Tom wouldn't hear him moving about, then into the
kitchen. The whole time his eyes were wide and glasst, as if he
was in some kind of trance. From his mother's bedroom he coudl
hear the sound of her screaming. Joey's eyes looked around the
kitchen for the one thing which he was searching for. Even though
he couldn't find it, he could hear Tom's comments echoing in his
head. The hurtful words he had said to him in the past when he
had been drinking. Cutting him like a knife through his soul. It
was then Joey saw the metal box on the kitchen table and next to
it was a loaded revolver.
"That's what you need. That is what you need to stop him. Take
it! Take it!" the voice demanded.
Joey moved toward the table, his trembling hand reached out for
it, while the sound of his mother's voice screamed out.
"Leave me alone!"
He wanted to avenge that pain that Tom was causing her. His hands
gripped the handle of the revolver as he pciked it up, then
Joey made his way down the hallway once again, his breath
becoming rapid as he moved. For some reason the walk from the
kitchen to his mother's bedroom seemed longer to him, even though
it wasn't. Making his way through the shadows of the hallway, he
followed the sound of his mother's voice. That and the sound of
things smashing against the wall. When he reached her bedroom,
the smell of incense seeped out from the cracks of the door. For
a moment he just stood there, his finger wrapped around the
trigger as he tried to get the courage to do what he knew had to
be done. But it wasn't really courage he was looking for; it was
the voice to tell him what had to be done. When he walked into
the bedroom, Joey saw his mother pinned against the wall with
Tom's body forced against her. His pants were down, her skirt
raised above her waist as he thrusted into her. To Joey, it
seemed like something that was violent. Her legs wrapped around
him as her head tilted back, eyes closed as sge let out a
Joey could hear the voice echoing in his mind, pushing him even
further into the illusions of his own thoughts. Just to see it,
drove him into rage.
"Do it! Do it! now while he doesn't know that you're in the
room." the voice said.
Joey pointed the revolver at him, then fired. Again and again,
the gun went off as he watched Tom's body jerked in wild spasms.
Not to Joey's knowledge, one of the bullets went through Tom's
body and hit his mother. Her eyes widened in such terror as she
stared at her son holding the smoking revolver. Their bodies
slowly slid down the wall to the floor. Leaving a trail of blood
on the pale white paint of it. Joey stood there frozen, the gun
pointed in front of him. He stayed that way, even when the police
found him ten minutes later. By that time both of the dead bodies
lay in a pool of both their blood. They looked at him terrified,
not just because they knew the boy pretty well. Or the fact that
he had done such a horrid act. But it was the cold, lifeless
glazed expression on his face, and the look of death within his
The police officers carefully took the revolver out of his hands,
even though all the bullets had been fired. As they placed him in
the back of the squad car with the neighbors watching, they all
knew this was the birth of a killer.