I don’t think about you anymore

I used to worry about what my father would do to me. Well, I wouldn’t say that I worried. I just didn’t want to see him. Ever. He treated me like a serial killer just like most people I know.

The reason I chose the name Sherlock is because in many instances, Sherlock Holmes is portrayed either as a sociopath, or similar to one. Plus, I enjoy the TV show.  Another reason is because I have my own John Watson. He’s probably the only person I know willing to put up with a girl like me. I don’t love him, but I care about him. It’s nice to talk to someone, even when to everyone else, I’m just another crazy *****.

Some people are born sociopaths, some are made. I was made into one. When I was a little kid, I was abused by my parents and my aunt, who lived with us. I got beat up a lot at school by older kids too. I don’t love my parents. I don’t love my aunt. I certainly don’t love the kids at preschool. I don’t really love anyone.

I haven’t ever killed anyone. I don’t think I will either. I do hunt, however. My uncle taught me how to when I was fourteen. By then I was living with him. Life was better because I wasn’t with the others. My uncle never hit me, yelled at me, or did anything else violent. While he is not a sociopath, I think that hunting helps him with frustration. I wouldn’t kill him. He provided for me for seven years. What good would it do to kill him?  I know, I’m harsh. What do you expect?

I don’t think about my father anymore. He threatened to tell everyone that I was a sociopath. That was when I was sixteen. If he had done that, I would have lost control over my life. I almost did too. No, I didn’t kill him. He’s in jail now, and none of the people he would’ve told would listen to him. I don’t fear exposure anymore. Well, not from him anyways. But if I was in an interview, and the topic came up, it might damage my chances.

I don’t think about bad things anymore. It slowed me down. I would feel angry.