Alicia Atkins

It was very good.

Bertrand was a psychopath.

That was pretty obvious from the diary.

I was on the fence about myself.

I thought, if anything, I was teaching myself to be a psychopath.

Sometimes, I caught myself justifying my escapades on the basis that the world was a bad place.

That there was no divine power that ever stopped any evil men do.

And that I had had enough turmoil and trauma to legitimize my every action.

It was bullshit, of course.

I was having fun.

And the damage I did was superficial.

Just the wear and tear of life.

Right?

Right up until the moment I killed my family.

Alicia had been nagging at me all day.

All I wanted was to be quiet, to hole up in my old room and wait for supper, not to engage in some pointless fight about something I didn't even remember saying.

She was convinced, of course, that I remembered very well however I insulted her.

But I didn't.

Even before the crash, my memory was unreliable.

I could say harsh things which passed through my lips and entirely out of my mind.