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It's time for me to share something with you. It's my hobby of typing horror stories. I have typed up 14 of these and I'm currently working on one for my action category. Tell what you think of it after you read, I always want opinions.

By Marc Monroy

“Why am I hated? I don’t understand the reason. Is it just because my father was a serial killer? Just because he was doesn’t mean I’ll be one.” These are the words of someone who was once dear to me. He is the one who was treated like dirt for something that wasn’t his fault. His name was A.J Stevens. I’m his older sister Carissa Stevens, but I wasn’t just his sister, but his only friend too. Everyone will say vile names to him like, well I’d rather not say. My friends don’t hate me for what our father was but that’s what I don’t understand. Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t do any harm. Today things that people were saying got worse. One of my friends said something terrible. “We don’t want anymore serial killers around here so why don’t you put yourself out of your misery.” My friend now ex friend Rachel said. “Hey stop saying that to my brother. He doesn’t deserve this!” I shouted. “Well if you want to defend a soon to be killer fine. You might as well offer yourself as his first victim.” She said. My brother and I walked away. “Don’t listen to them A.J, you’re different from dad.” I said. Another reason why my brother is despised is that he used to be a trouble maker. But there was one instant when he did the unthinkable. It was when he was six and I was nine. Our neighbors the Montoya’s needed someone to watch their two year old for a few days while they left on their honeymoon.
Our mom left us alone with the baby. Then I saw my brother walk into the kitchen. He came out with a butter knife. I saw him walking towards the baby. He raised the knife when he was less than a foot away. “Hey A.J what’re you doing?” I asked him. He didn’t stop to respond. I told him to stop but he didn’t. I yelled for my mom. Right when my mom came back it was too late. A.J killed the baby. Once the parents came home they called the police on us. After the day the police came they didn’t trust us anymore. “Your child is a threat to everyone else’s children. Your son is already acting like his father. So what do you plan to do with him now?” Mr. Montoya asked. After that we lost our friendship with them.
To tell you the truth sometimes I’d think I saw my brother have a look. It was the look of a cold blooded killer. Days later things started to get even worse. Now the teachers were treating my brother badly. I’ve told my mother but when she told administration the teachers who did the horrible things they did say they treat him like any other student. I was the only one that knew they were lying. Once things started to get the way they did bad things started to happen. People drove by our house and threw bricks at our windows and some vandalized our home. My mother called the police a few times but they didn’t do anything.
My brother kept a diary. But ever since he was being teased he’s been writing in it more and more. One day I decided to read it. I know it’s wrong to but lately the way he’s been is staring to scare me. I couldn’t believe some of the thing’s he was drawing. At the beginning there were pictures he drew of himself hanging on a tree. Then once I read what he wrote down the day before really scared me. “What are you doing sis?” My bother asked. I jumped and turned. He spotted me reading his diary. “Who gave you permission to read that?!” He shouted. He came towards me with heavy strides. The expression he made frightened me. He grabbed the diary out of my hands. Then I walked out of his room shaking. I thought he was going to kill me.
The things I saw in his diary were things a killer would write down. He was going to kill everyone who shunned him. I had to do something but what? Once I got to school the next morning I saw my brother taking to some of the ones who he despised. Something wasn’t right. Just yesterday they were teasing him but now he’s laughing and making conversation with them. What’s going on? I had some classes with him and even his teachers were being kind to him. Even though he was getting along with everyone I still had a bad feeling. Once school ended a so-called friend of his walked home with us. When I was doing my homework my brother was in the backyard with his friend. It was getting late and I heard my brother come inside. “Where’s Rachel?” I asked. “She left.” My brother replied. What I noticed was the blood stained on his white shirt. He didn’t notice it.
I think he knew that I noticed the blood on his shirt. What was this feeling? I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t call the police because they really don’t care for what I say. So there was nothing I could do.
Two days later he was with another friend. This friend of his was a paranoid person so it would make it more difficult for him. Once I found out what he was going to do I was wrong. This time he put a sedative inside his friend’s drink. He was at school when he did this. Once he fell to sleep my brother carried him to the top of the parking structure. Then he put his friend on the edge. Once he woke up my brother pushed him off and he fell to his death. This caused a crowd but he was still able to escape.
In the last three days of the week my brother killed three more people. I had read his diary one more time and once I saw the last page I was really shaking this time. I was his last victim. I heard his footsteps so I hurried out of his room. Then I hurried to my room and shut the door.
It was Saturday and a friend and I were studying. It was a long day and I still felt a little shaky. “Okay Carissa that should be about it.” The boy said. “Thanks Ryan you were a big help.” I said. “No problem, I’ll always be glad to help.” He said. Then he walked out the door. My brother walked through the door with a knife in his hand. He ran at me and I ran over my bed. He swung the knife and it nicked my leg. I was about to run to the door but my brother closed and locked it. “A.J please don’t do this.” I said crying. “Ryan help me, please!” I shouted. “He already left.” A.J said. I pulled out my cell phone to try to call the police but before I knew it I was against the wall. “Hello police. You have to help m- The knife was in my stomach and I cried out in pain. I continued to cry and then A.J pushed the knife in farther and twisted it. Once he took it out I felt my stomach and it was sticky with blood. I fell to my knees and I reached for my brother with my other arm and then collapsed.
My vision started to blur and I noticed my brother was crying. Then he dropped the knife and stood in one place looking down at me. I heard someone calling out my name. Ryan ran through the door and kneeled down beside me. “Come on Carissa you can make it.” He said. All I did was look up at him and smiled for some reason. Then again he said, “Don’t give up Carissa you can still make it.” Ten minutes passed and I was passed out from blood loss.“Where are those paramedics?!” Ryan shouted. Ryan decided to take things into his own hands.
It was a whole week before I woke up. I woke up with Ryan holding my hand. “Ryan.” I said weakly. “Carissa I’m so glad you’re alright.” He said relieved. “Ryan where’s my brother?” I asked. “He’s in Juvenile hall. He won’t be out for a really long time.” Ryan said. I started to cry. “It’s my fault he’s like this.” I cried. “No it’s not you’re fault, you did nothing to make him that way.” Ryan said. I still lied in bed crying and blaming myself for how A.J ended up. I did my best to keep him acting like any other child his age. Then Ryan came towards me and wrapped his arms around me. “It’s alright Carissa don’t blame yourself.” Ryan said trying to comfort me. Regardless of what my brother did I’ll always love him.