The Monster Inside Me

The Monster Inside Me

The world was burning.
And so was my thirst for human blood.
No, I'm not a vampire. No, I'm not a werewolf. In fact, I'm not any sort of mythical creature. It's just that killing runs through my blood, surging deep within me, through my veins and into my cold, black heart.
I am capable of murder.
My weaknesses?
A blow to the head. A shot to the chest. A knife to the stomach.

See, I'm just a simple teenage girl, who has an obsession with death.

Chapter 4

May 15, 2012

Dear Jordan,

Today Mom started yelling at me because she found you on the floor of Danny's and Matt's room.

"Why was this in your brothers' room?" She asked me. And me, with my usual intellectual replies responded,

"I dunno,"

"Well I spent money on this so you're sure going to use it!" Blah blah blah,,,

So here I am, writing away again. She said that she didn't read my entry when she found you, but I can tell she did. Because when she handed you to me she was like, "I want you to write down what's going on in the present, and events in the past that have effected you."

I swear to God, she sounds just like the articles on

Alright, I guess I'll start with the present.

Hi Jordan, my name is Victoria Whitewood. I was born August 6, 1998, which makes me 14 years old. I live in Wyoming. My favorite color is red. I live on a farm and I go to Birch Creek High School. I have two younger twin brothers, Danny and Matt, who are in the fourth grade. I had a really pretty sister named Alyssa. My mom is named Helen and my dad is named Jonathon.

I have long, curly black hair and blue eyes and stupid freckles. My skin is so white kids at school tell me I glow in the dark. My best friend is named Nobody.

Now it's time for the past.

This part is kind of hard. I don't want to talk about it much, but I have to. Because I think that Mom's going to read this again anyways.

I was six years old at the time. Mom, Dad, Alyssa, and I. Danny and Matt, who were just a couple months old at the time, were at our baby sitters house.

It was the middle of January, and it was snowing super hard. We were driving back home- from what, I don't remember. I think I was too young to even care.

So there we were, the four of us all cooped up in our old white Lexus. Dad was driving, and Mom had her hand placed on his across the seat. I remember looking at their hands. That night, Mom had a really pretty pearl bracelet on that came as a set with matching pearl earrings. Sometimes she would let me wear them when I played Princesses with Alyssa.

Alyssa and I were sitting in the backseat. I had the left window, and she had the very middle so we could play with our Polly Pocket dolls. I was always jealous of her Polly- it came with three pets, a dog, a cat and a bird. My Polly only came with a purse and a hairbrush. But Alyssa always let me play with the cat.

"But not for keeps." She would remind me. "Not for keeps." I would say, and we would start to play.

Since I was six, I guess Alyssa would have been... 9? 10? I can't quite remember how old she was, but at the time she was the prettiest smartest most amazing person in the world. My sister.

Hang on, Jordan. Hand cramp.

Anyways, I looked up to Alyssa. I completely idolized her. She was so perfect and I wanted to be just like her. And she was always nice to me. I can't remember one day where we didn't get along.

And it was on this night that Alyssa was unjustly taken away from me forever.

It was snowing hard, and we were in a white car. The other driver couldn't have seen us coming.

We were at a red light about to make a right turn, which is perfectly legal in my state. But the driver of the huge semi truck couldn't see us turning, even with our turn signals and headlights and whatnot.


The huge truck collided into the back of ours, sending all four of us lurching in our seats.

I was wearing my seat belt. Mom was wearing hers. Dad was wearing his.

Alyssa, my sweet Alyssa, was not wearing hers.

She went flying forwards from the impact, straight through our windshield. And at this point, we were spiraling out of control, tossing, turning, flipping, whatever other adjective you can think of.

Then we stopped, and I took off my seat belt and crawled forward to check and see if Alyssa was alright. Mom was frantically shaking Dad, who had hit his head and passed out. But she hadn't noticed Alyssa's foot on our dashboard. That was all that took to keep my sister inside the car. The rest of her body was able to smash its way through the windshield, which was now spattered with blood. Through the massive hole in the glass, I could see Alyssa perfectly, blood plaguing her once angelic face. Her body was mangled in ways unimaginable, with her neck hanging awkwardly and her arms both broken in several places.

Then there were the sirens.

And that's all I remember.

Oh god, I can feel my throat closing up now. It feels like I have a rock stuck in the back or something. How is this helping me, Mom? I know you'll eventually read this, so FEEL FREE TO TELL ME.

Alright, Victoria. Deep breaths.

I woke up in a hospital a couple of days later. The first thing I asked was, "Did Alyssa get her bird back? It wasn't for keeps... wasn't for keeps..."

That's when my parents delivered the news.

My sister was dead.

Sorry, Jordan, that's all I can write tonight. Your pages are filled enough with tears and snot as it is. I'll write again later.

- Victoria

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