My First Time

I'm so sorry everyone... what am I doing with life XD

     The day I finally decided it was time, my mother was washing the dishes. My father, a stupid drunk, was passed out in his bed. He wouldn't remember how he got there. He never did. This would work to my advantage. I was six years old at that time.
       I had been planning to do what I was about to do for a long time, but I felt like it was better to wait a little bit, let the excitement build-up, like foreplay before sex. I wanted it to be perfect, because I would only get one shot. One chance to do this. I didn't want to f**k it up. That's the problem with most people like me, they just jump straight into it, they don't take the time to plan it out, to truly prepare for it. They usually end up f*****g themselves over. I wouldn't make that mistake. I'd been letting it all build up for six months, and now that I was finally about to do it, I was shaking in excitement.
       They say it always feels better when you do it to the people closest to you, somebody you have a close bond with. But that made me feel like I was doing it slightly wrong, because I didn't feel love for anybody, it just sounded like a hell of a lot of fun. I was also incredibly young to be doing this, most people are between fourteen to sixteen before they do it the first time, but I? I was different. I felt like I could handle it. I wanted it so bad. It would feel so good, so... right. I would almost drool when I thought about it. Of course, my parents wouldn't approve... but I didn't care.
       So with mother washing dishes and Dad passed out I decided I was going to do it. I was trembling in excitement. This is it... this is it... 
       I slowly walked up behind my Mother. She didn't see me at first, but as she turned to put a dish on the counter, she saw me through her peripheral vision and jumped.
       "Dear lord, Kaylen," she gasped. "Don't scare me like that! And-- hey! What's a little girl like you carrying a knife for, give me that! You'll hurt yourself!"
       She reached forward to grab the long Wolfgang Puck knife I was holding. I smiled sickly and slashed out at her arm, cutting her deep. Bright beads of scarlet splashed onto the floor from the cut. First blood...
       "Kaylen!" She cried. "What are you doing?!"
       I brought the blade up to my tongue and licked the blood off of it. It had a coppery taste, but I kind of liked it. I took a step towards my mother. One little scratch certainly wouldn't do, no. Lord no. I wanted to take a bath in the f*****g stuff. Lay in it and make blood angels like an innocent little kid would do in the snow on a winter day. I giggled in excitement. "Mother, hush now, this is the way things were meant to be." I smiled crookedly and slashed again. I swung the knife horizontally above her gut. In a splash of red her gut split open, her entrails seeping out. She gasped, not actually able to cry out. I let her stumble past me, then tripped her so she toppled straight to the ground. At this point she had started to sob. She rolled onto her back, her right hand on her stomach, keeping her intestines in, her left on the ground supporting herself. She started to crawl backwards, looking at me in pained fear. She left a trail of blood as she crawled. "Kaylen," she breathed, blood beginning to pour down her chin. "What are you doing? Why are you doing this?"
       I crouched down to me knees and dragged my tongue across the floor, where my mother's blood had stained her white tiled kitchen floor bright crimson, lapping up the blood like a kitten would to a saucer of milk. I loved it. I loved the thickness of it, its warmth, its consistency, its taste. But this still wasn't enough. I wanted more... I looked up and made eye contact with my mother. I started to crawl towards her on all fours, giggling madly. 
       "Why are you doing this, Kaylen?!" she asked in desperation. "Why?!"
       I cocked my head to the side. "Come on now, mother, don't act like I don't know."
       "...What?"
       "You've been sleeping around, haven't you? Father might not have noticed because he's too drunk, but I did. I've seen men leaving this house after dark. I've seem the texts. I've heard you talk on the phone. And I even found your birth control pills. Tell me, Mother-- didn't Father get a vasectomy after I was born? What do you need those for?"
       My mother opened her mouth, but didn't say anything. Instead her eyes widened in shock and fear. 
       "I could tell you I'm doing this because you're a filthy f*****g w***e and you deserve to die, buuuut...why should I kid myself? I'm doing this because it's fun. Now just f*****g die!"
       I leaped onto her, driving my blade into her gut, jack hammering the blade into her f*****g body as fast as I can. Her blood sprays on my face and clothes, into my open mouth. "Die, just f*****g die you stupid w***e!" I took the knife and pierced her chest, dragging the down to reveal her organs. I cupped my hands and brought them inside of her, bringing them up full of blood. I brought it to my face and drank hungrily, gulping it down like water. My mother died with her eyes open. I laughed, my body trembling in excitement. But the deed was only half-done. My father still lived, after all. This time I'd get creative.
       I went out to the shed and grabbed a rope and carried it into the house. I walked into my father's room, grinning sickly. He was still passed out. I tied the rope in a knot and put it where it would serve its purpose-- a noose. Then I grabbed his boots and put them on. I walked over to wear I made my first kill and looked down, my mother laying in a pool of her own blood. I stepped in the blood with the boots and walked back to my father's room. I took the boots off and put them by his bed. Then I walked back to the kitchen. I grabbed a bowl and lifted my mother's head. I stabbed her in the eye and held it over the bowl so the blood would drip into it. Once I felt that I had a sufficient quantity I carried it back to my father's room and poured it all over him. Now for the finishing touch, I opened his palm and put the knife in it. "Perfect," I smiled. Then I set his alarm clock to go off in one minute, and went back to the kitchen. I crawled up to my mother and waited.
       When the alarm clock went off, my father awoke. "What the f**k?!" he shouted. "What... what happened?" He must have followed the bloody shoe prints, as I had planned, because a second later he was in the kitchen, still holding the knife.
       "Tammie?" he breathed, looking down in fear. He looked from the knife to himself and then to his wife, his eyes widening in fear. "Kaylen, what... did I...?"
       "You came home drunk, Father," I said, faking a sob. "You found out mother was cheating in you, so you... you..." I broke away into fake tears, looking away.
       He dropped the knife. "I... I did this? I... I killed her?" he dropped the knife, trembling all over. "Noo... that's..." 
       "I watched you, Father. I saw you do it, you killed Mommy!" I stood up. "There's one way to fix it, though."
       My father looked me in the eyes in despair. "How? How can I fix this?" 
       "Follow me," I said. He followed me back to his room. I pointed at the noose hanging from the ceiling. "Do you see what you must do?"
       My father looked at it sadly. "Do I have to?" he whispered.
       "Yes," I replied. "A life for a life."
       My father shivered. "Yes... it's the only way. I'm coming, Tammie, I'm so sorry..."
       He pulled up a chair and put his neck into the noose. He looked at me hesitantly. I nodded encouragingly.
       With that he kicked the chair over. There was a loud SNAP as his neck broke, and he dangled limply in the air, unmoving.
       I giggled. "That was fun," I said. And you better believe there'd be more.
       The police came shortly. Some evidence pointed to me, buuuut nobody wanted to say that a little girl killed her father, soo they decided my father killed my mother and committed suicide. I was put in a foster home.
       And I wanted to do it again....