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Weekly Contest #202
WARNING: This story contains death and references to insanity. 1936 I'm going to kill 'Aunt Maddie'. Prancing about like she owns everything, talking in that 'high-and-mighty', condescending voice. It makes me sick. I'll show her that she doesn't own me. I suppose it isn't good to sit here and brood. I don't know how long I've been like this. When I sat down it was black outside and the oil lamp had just started to burn. Now the flame is gone and the sun is showering light upon the walls. I sigh. My hours of worry cost me another lamp and...
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