My name is a Andreal, my story is short, sweet, and sappy happy ending, at least I suppose so. I flexed my fingers, and attempted to twirl my wrists, completely forgetting that they were strapped down. The Father stood before me, saying something about Jesus, God, and what not. I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning my forehead against the cool metal that was about to kill me. That's right folks, I'm in an electric chair, how's my death a good happy ending? Well I suppose I don't really know. I opened my eyes and the Father had already started walking away.

“Um, sir?” It was the first time I have opened my mouth since the trial.

The Father turned around assuming I was talking to him. “Yes?”

“No, I meant the officer, sorry.” I grinned sheepishly.

Something that I've always been able to read passed through the Father's eyes; confusion. Everyone said I was too nice of a girl, that this had come to a shock for the small little suburb of Lenoal. The officer that was standing to the corner raised his eyebrow in question.

“How many other's have died by this method?” I asked, averting my eyes shyly to my lap.

He sighed heavily and replied, “A good more than a couple dozen. You're just another notch on that chair.”

I smiled and raised my eyes to him, nodding a small thanks. Again, his eyes showed the confusion just as the Father's had. It was something I was taking pride for rapidly. The Father rested a hand on the officer's shoulders and whispered a few words to him. The evidence? I read the Father's lips, he was questioning my conviction. Whether I was really as guilty as the evidence had said, or as innocent as my personality screamed. Personally, I was more than guilty of what the evidence had shown, they just haven't found the other bodies yet and they wouldn't for a couple of years (if they were lucky.)

The officer's hand gripped the switch tightly, I could see the veins starting to protrude from his hand and arm. His other hand when to the rosary that was around his neck, he was religious, praying that he wouldn't be condemned for this murder. I rolled my eyes at this, he was working too slow for my liking.

“Sir?” I called again. The officer looked at me with remorse in his eyes. “Could you please just pull the switch, thank you.” I grinned brightly. He nodded and pulled. The electricity coursed through my body, I felt my brain fry. They say your life passes before your eyes, well they lie. What passed me by was the reason for my death.

I laughed my head off as I chased the neighbors cat in the yard. The thing finally climbed a tree and stayed there, huddled in fear. I deftly climbed the tree and caught it by it's neck. It began to hiss and struggle to free itself from my grasp. I laughed again as I slinked back into the empty house. I passed the hallway mirror and was almost scared of my devilish ten year old face grinning. I slipped into the bathroom and took the rope that I had placed in there. Quickly, I knotted it around the cat's neck, leaving it with enough room to breath. Then I knotted it around all four legs tightly, so it couldn't life it's head up with out pulling the legs out from under itself. I filled the bath tub with some water, enough so the cat wouldn't drown but would start to get cold. I gently began pouring water over it, saturating it's fur. I left the cat and went to the medicine cabinet and pulled out anti-depressants that my mother was taking. I shoved a few down the cat's throat. I could see it's muscles slacking, it's pupils dilating. I took the steak knife that I had placed on the edge of the tub and began working, starting at the cat's stomach. I was skinning it alive. I wanted that beautiful, black fur that glistened brown in the sunlight all for myself. It wailed loudly in pain as it's blood stained the water and my hands. I shoved my hand into it's body, pressing my finger's against it's heart that was rapidly beating. I wrapped my fingers around the heart and squeezed. The cat wailed louder till it died. I cleaned up the mess and placed the pelt under my bed. That was my first kill ever.

No one ever found out. From ten I started escalating, to dogs, other animals, and finally to humans. I had killed many humans, from small children to adults, to the elderly. In the past fifteen years I've killed at least eight people. None of them gave me a thrill except one. It was when I was seventeen. He had gotten under my skin severely enough to trigger my anger, to unlock my devilish side.

He was the popular bad-ass, the one that every girl swoons over, I was no different. The sleeves of his school shirt was always cut off, revealing the tribal tattoo that circled his upper right arm. His short hair was always geled back in a sleek way. His face looked like he jumped right out of the movie Grease. Dark eyes twinkled with ill intent. I, the shy, home-body girl had caught his eye.

We had met at a party, he and I had hit off instantly. He told me things that I was shocked anyone knew about me. The way my mouth twitched when rain fell during history. The way my fingers drummed to the melody pumping out of the music room that was two floors below me in english. The most detailed thing he told me was; “There's more to you than meets the eye. There's a devilish flare waiting to break free just below those eyes.” He didn't know how true those words had already been.

He found out though. He crossed my path the wrong way. I gave him everything! I trusted him! I had even let him in on my darkest secret. The murders. The slaughtering. The human flesh that I had managed to preserve under my bed. The animal pelts that riddled my closet that no one dared touched. He was terrified. Me, the home-body was a malicious child. The devilish flare was already set free and he hadn't caught on to it. Oh but he would.

Our school was full of gossips. “There's a freak among us. Apparently it's a murder.” That's what they all said and I knew just who told them. I remained cool, calm, and collected. I lured him into my house when my mother was again away. That's when I killed him. Oh his kill was amazing. (Better than the sex.) I had him strapped to my bed. He was already hard. Funny, how he'd never think I'd kill him. Why? He thought I loved him... Oh I did. I suppose. In some way my body wanted him. It was nice. But he crossed the line. He shattered my trust. So I carved him. I worked quickly and meticulously. I castrated him. Using his own member to gag him. He was crying. The tough guy! Can you believe it? I certainly couldn't. Then I worked on cutting his chest open. He screamed. It made my skin crawl with excitement. His heart, it was going a thousand miles a second. I grabbed it and he squirmed. I slowly began crushing it in my hand.

But then; then I stopped. I couldn't crush his heart. That was my heart. He said he loved me. He said he gave me his heart. I believed him. I still do. Some where in my house, some where, where the police didn't look I still have his heart. Though I had to kill him somehow. I decided to let him drown in his own blood. Deftly I punctured his right lung. I watched his blood fill it. I covered the small wound with my finger, feeling the lung convulse in an attempt to relinquish the blood. I shuddered. I started to laugh. I couldn't stop myself. Then his body stopped moving. I looked at his face and gently ran my fingers over it, smearing his blood on it. My heart hurt. I killed him. He was the only victim I cried over.

I laid next to his body all night, till the sun brought me back to my senses. I took the knife and worked on carving his heart out. I cradled his heart gently to my own and cried. I could still feel it beating. Keeping him alive enough to scream his lungs out in pain. Well he couldn't exactly scream with his blood filling his lungs. I looked at his face again and removed the “gag”. His eyes were open and paling. The color was draining from his eyes. I ran my bloodied fingers through his hair that was already slicked back. It felt brittle and some of it fell out into my hand. I kissed him, hoping to restart his hear that was in my other hand. Still it wouldn't beat.

I placed his heart in the drawer next my bed. I quickly disposed of the body the same way as I had with other's previous to him. He wasn't my last kill, but my greatest kill. Still as I'm dying, I still feel his heart beating in my hand. I still hear it.

I couldn't hear anything but his heart beat... No, that's mine. It's my heart that's beating so quickly, like his. But I don't feel any fear. Oh. I'm dying. That's not his voice screaming.... That's mine. It's loud. Oh god. What have I done? Why did I do this? Why? I knew I'd be caught! I knew I'd get the death penalty! Why? Oh god that's all I can ask is why? But all I can hear is my screaming.

Finally, it's done. I'm dead. It's dark. All I can see is dark. What's that? It's him. His eyes, they're so pale. His face it's so hollow. My body hurts and it's cold. My chest is torn open. He's holding my heart. Oh god what is he doing?

“Heart for a heart Andreal.” His voice laughs just as mine did.

All I can hear is my screaming. All I can feel is my heart beating so quickly...