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Image for the poem Becoming Trinity, Inside the mind of a female serial killer

Becoming Trinity, Inside the mind of a female serial killer

Please copy and past and listen while reading                                          
And as always thanks for looking                                              
Black Sabbath : War Pig                                            
 https://youtube.com/watch?v=LQUXuQ6Zd9w                                              
                                             
                                             
This is written in Bostonian language to the best of my ability I was born in Boston this is not about me but I’m writing it from a first person perspective .                                              
                                             
                                                   
It was late on a Saddahday night in the summah of 1999 I’m 21 soon to be 22 in a month. I struggle  with heroin addiction and still live at my parents house full time, but, am nevah they-ah, most of the time.                                              
Patricia, Vincenzo, and Johnny had all gotten stinking drunk, like they do evry Friday and Saddahday night. Johnny my oldah brotha by five yeas , was a high school drop-out. He nevah worked a day in his life, a bully and thief at school. He dropped out at 16, already a mooch and a bum and full time alcoholic.                                              
I am the gophah when I was around, which wasn’t often anymore. Drinks, snacks, and anything else they needed I had to fetch, or Johnny would beat my ass or something much worse,  if he knew he’d get away with it. Oh   yes___!    it   was   a   bitch   when   it   was   pahty time at the Dia’chanco house.                                              
                                             
Tonight was no exception, Johnny was already harassing me, he was a Mutha- fuckah! especially when he’s drinking!                                              
                                             
“Hurry up and die Sarah! or Just hang it up already Sarah!”                                              
                                             
He often grabbed me by both my sholdahs and with his dirty salty death breath, whispah in my face            
( so my Mutha wouldn’t hair) not that she gave a fuck anyway.                               
                                     
“you dirty little fuck hole!” He would laugh to himself while chanting, Sarah wets her bed at night, mommy quick! get the diapahs ! This bulllshit went on all night; that and the constant arguing and fist fighting between the bopsy-twins, falling down and screaming at me to help them up__! 1 million and 99 fucking times !                                              
I grabbed a six pack of bee-ah from the kitchen and brought it out to them and told them I was going out and won’t be home till tomorrow. Instead, I snuck up to my room.                                              
                                                                              
My adrenaline level was at full throttle and I took off in a sprint up the staahz, but not before snatching my fathas keys to his gun cabnet that just happened to be on the kitchen table.                                              
                                             
 To be continued ...                        
                         
Copyright © 2021 M. Doucette                                                      
All rights Reserved.      
Zazzles
Written by Zazzles (Broomie)
Published | Edited 10th Feb 2021
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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