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Cinth Lucretia Falyn Carenthia Ravendallendaria |
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On the records it says{ Cinth Lucretia Falyn Carenthia Ravendallendaria
But you can call me{ Cinth, Falyn, or Cin
I only got { 16 } years under my belt
I think I get older on{ February 14th (How the hell did that happen?!)
I'm pretty sure I'm a{ Girl
Making me interested in{ Boys and Girls
So I guess that makes me{ Bisexual
Mum and dad gave me up 'cause{
~Arson
~Multiple Weapons Possession Fellonies
~Possession of Explosives with intent to harm
~Bombing
~Mass Murder
~Terrorism
~Drug Dealing
~Assult of a officer
~Theft
~Resisting arrest
~Murder of the secound degree
~Hacking into private military files
~Stealing military information
~Building deadly weapons
~Illegal genetice mutation
~Attempted Murder
~Racketeering
~Conspiracy to commit Murder
~Assault in the first degree
~Armed Robbery
~Assault with a deadly weapon
~Pryotechnics
~Counterfiting
~Kidnapping
I really seem to miss{
~Fire
~Killing
~Fernando
~Laughin
~Kissing
~Being loved
~Being in charge
Then again I always hated{
~Television
~Crying
~Smoking
~Cigarettes
~Alcohol
~Happy people
I was always accused of being{ Criminally Insane, but psychologists diagnosed me as being schizophrenic with narcasistic tendancies, and an emotional imbalance. I don't feel sorry about anything, I don't regret, I just do. I hear voices every now and again, the true masters tell me how the system is false and it must be rebuilt. I can kill and not feel a thing, but I have a tendancy to want things my way. I'm resolved to the point of insanity and will what I want, when I want. But 'they' don't like that. I also have a tiny obsession with fire, it cleans everything. Wipes the slate. Doesn't that sound like a dream? That was then, though, before I met Fernando. Now that he's gone, some day's Im worse, and some days I just wanna die.
But they locked me up 'cause{ I am the way I am. Now for the life story. I was born into a 'normal' household, in modern suberbia america, you know, career obsessed parents, angry parents, ones that look at a child as an accessory that looks good with a hand bag when you meet your friends in the mall. Raised by a nanny that can't even speak english. Yeah, that kind of family. They were rarely around, and fought constantly when they were, but they had money, and fed and watered and pampered their accessory, but they never caught on. My parents always thought I was just quiet. As a baby, as a young child, I barely spoke and enjoyed playing by myself. You'd think that they would have clued in though when my favorite past-time was using a magnifying glass to kill things smaller then me, would have figured something was wrong when I'd laugh when somebody died in a movie, when at 7 I was more concerned with candles then I was with barbie dolls and make up.
When I was ten, I discovered the joy in killing. Yeah. When I was ten. Most people don't kill until they're at least twenty. I was lucky. I was ten years younger than them. Funny, right? People always asked me why I did it. Answer is... because I wanted to know what it feels like. Yeah. That's it. That's all. I wanted to know what it felt like to watch the light leave their eyes. To watch as they took their last breath and floated to the land of the beyond. Wanted to feel what it was like to know you took a life that wasn't yours to take. And you know what? I felt nothing. Nada. I became skilled. Skilled at killing. I killed many people. All of them found, but no one could find the killer. No one could find me. The city I lived in panicked. Why? Because there was a mass murderer on the loose... and no one even suspected shy, innocent little Cinth. It made me laugh.
I got bored, though, always getting away with murder... and so I started leaving traces. Little things. Half a finger print. Barely an inch of my hair. A half smuged foot print. A tiny speck of my blood. Hell, I even left a tiny bit of spit behind. But they never caught me. Funniest thing was, though, when they put an innocent man away for my murders. MY murders. He begged and pleaded... told them it wasn't him. But did they believe him? No. They didn't. Poor guy. But the funniest thing was watching the people panic when he got sent away, yet the murders continued. Was it a copy cat? Did they get the wrong guy? Sad that an innocent man was put to death for a crime... Im sorry, for crimes he didn't commit.
When I was twelve I got tired of just murder and I fooled around with other things. Arson. Burglary. Grand Theft Auto. Assault. Terrorism. Possesion of Explosives. Drugs. (Not smoking, dealing. selling. You name it, I tried it. When I was thirteen, I got caught. MAJOR drug bust, and I mean major. Got caught with more than an eight ball of crack. I would have gotten away... but I was also carrying a deadly weapon, had explosives, and I assaulted an officer. And guess what happened, boys and girls? I got my a** thrown in juvie. JUVIE! HA! But one thing happened. I met Fernando... Ahh. Fernando. He was hung like a bull, and had an amazing body. It was love at first sight... or should I say first stab?
It was in the cafeteria... I was just getting to know the place when out of no where some a*****e trips me and I end up spilling my lunch on the meanest, sexiest guys there. Fernando. It didn't matter that I was a girl. It didn't matter that I was thirteen, and he was fifteen. It didn't matter that I was sexy as hell. It didn't matter that he had a good five inches on me. None of it mattered. He swung at me. I ducked. He kicked at me. I grabbed his leg and twisted. He landed on his back. I smirked. He grabbed a knife. I grabbed a fork. He got on his feet. I braced myself. He took a swing at me. I bobbed and weaved. We ended up intangled in eachother. His knife to my neck. My fork to his holy region. We glared at eachother, then broke apart. He cut at me. I stabbed at him. I stabbed at him. He cut at me. It was magic.
In the end, we ended up panting, laying on eachother, blood pouring over our bodies. We were both dragged to the infirmary, patched up, then forced in a room together where we glared at eachother. I don't know what happened, but one moment we were fighting, then the next we were intangled with eachother, our lips moving together like fire. Since that day, we always had eachothers back. If someone swung at him, I stabbed at them. If someone swung at me, he made damn sure they never walked again. Life was good. We were happy. I had someone who loved me. Someone who understood me. And he had someone to fight with. Someone who always had his back. Someone he could trust... If only I knew then what I knew now.
Fernando's best friend, Jose, was jealous. He wanted me.. wanted my loyality. Wanted to be loved. Wanted to be ********. But he knew he couldn't have me. Not with Fernando in the way. So he plotted. And he planned... and one day while Fernando and I were kissing, Jose showed up. He looked pissed. Started yelling. Saying how he'd had his eyes on me first. Said it wasn't cool for Fernando to steal what should of been his. To ******** what should of been his to ********. Fernando got pissed. They started fighting. I tried... Tried to stop him. Tried to warn Fernando. Tried to tell him Jose was packing. That the fight wasn't fair. But it was too late. Jose stabbed Fernando. Right in the stomach. Then kept stabbing, and kept stabbing, until Fernando was barely alive. Then Jose left. I ran to Fernando, screamed for help... but no one came. I wated... Watched as Fernando died. And his last words were, "I love you."
For days I cried. For days I plotted. For days I schemed. Everyone knew. Knew what would happen. Knew Jose was done for. I let Jose in, though. I acted like I loved him. And one day, I got him. I tortured him to the point of death. I waited. Waited until he was just about to his pain limit before I said, "This. This is for Fernando." I didn't let him die, though. I went. I went and told a guard. Said I had found him like that. He lived... Jose did... But he was never the same. He had to spend the rest of his life hooked up to a machine. After I got back at Jose I turned into an empty shell. I was depressed. I got out of Juvie, though. For good behavior. And now, I don't know what to do with myself.
Never told no one but{ Im paranoid of clowns.
always made me heart jump, their name was Fernando... But now he's gone. </3
I miss my music, always listened to{
Whatever you like.
Kiss me thru da phone.
Frozen
Poker face
What I see in the mirror:
Could this really be me?
Is this the same person?
 Smex Flavoured Skittles · Sat Jun 06, 2009 @ 03:28am · 0 Comments |
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