Once upon a time my mother gave me a book. It was a wreck-this-journal journal. On one of the first pages, it had instructions. One of them was ‘Instructions are Open to Interpretation.’ I liked that. I like twisting things to fit my twisted mind. Or rather, I like thinking of things the way my brain likes to think of things. It is much harder to that on meds, however. They have been very strict with taking meds, ever since the journal.
One of the pages in the journal had a stain log. I filled that page up. I chewed a pill and spit it on there – it was red, so it stained. I also put blood on there. Blood stains. Any girl or killer can tell you that. I tried a few other pills, but they did not stain as well. Not the right colors. Then I tried more blood. Different bloods. They all looked the same. Not sure what I expected. Well, at the time I thought every person had different colored blood. That is not true.
There is also a tongue painting page, where you eat colorful candy and then lick the page. I used more pills for that. My mother called them candy, so I thought it would fit. Mother got upset with me. She sent me to the basement. She slipped food and my meds under the door. Thinking about it now, maybe it was the blood that upset her more. From the stain log. I used the blood of baby brother. I thought it would be baby blue.
Another page said to bring the book into the shower. But I did not have a shower in the basement, so I had to make one. Father got mad at that point, because the basement flooded. I made a shower with the water pipes. Father yelled at me. I got to leave the basement after that.
Another page of the journal said ‘Crack the spine.’ So I went outside and found the cat. It was hard to crack such a bendy spine. Mother came outside when she heard the cat yowling. Father came outside when he heard Mother scream. His face got red when I told him I did it because of the journal. He said that ‘the instructions are up to interpretation’ did not mean that I could do whatever I wanted without getting in trouble.
I was sent to another home with a new mother and father within the next week.
Never read the instructions, that’s the moral of this story.