Mercy Killing a serial by Cynthia Piramalli

Is it possible to be a murderer who has done the right thing? In this case, it seems like it's the only possible way to find justice. You be the judge.

I'll begin at the beginning - I was sixteen at the time. I found her body - I didn't scream or even cry, I don't know why. It's a pretty revolting thing for a sixteen year old to find, but I just sat there looking at her, in shock I suppose, memorising it for some morbid reason.

Robert killed my mother - She says her life is sufficient. I think she has a warped idea of sufficient. Fair enough, she has a roof over her head and food in her stomach. But otherwise, it seems very depressing, speaking from an outsider looking in. Even when I was in the house during that period after mum was killed, I still felt I was looking into some perfect life stuffed up severely in the making. The reason? I blame the unhappiness I saw there on Robert.

I decided to kill him - My sister Christina came into the shop where I worked with this amazing bruise on her - it covered the whole area from under her ear, and down her neck. I have no idea how that sort of bruise can be accomplished. I can't remember the excuse she gave me either, but I remember it was lame.

Did you bring the gun? - Okay, let's recap like they say in the cricket. My mother was killed, my brother-in-law did it (unless you ask the cops), and now it's payback time.

D-Day - I was feeling okay until Robert got home - with no idea what we had in store for him of course. Then my nerves jumped on my back and wouldn't let go, but I couldn't back out now.

Tough bastard - I have no idea how long I was unconscious for. Robert hit me good after my failed murder attempt on him. A justified hit I suppose, considering the circumstances.

He's going to kill us - It was late into the afternoon now, the sun belting down into the bathroom window which made my eyes sting more than they already were.

A fit of pure rage - My first sensation upon waking was of feeling freezing and lying on a cold hard floor. Then surprise that Robert hadn't drowned me in the bath after all. He was going to string this out for as long as he could, I knew it.

it was worth it - I need not tell you what happened after our interesting caper. It was inevitable that the police should be brought into it after Chris arrived at the hospital by ambulance with the offending stab wounds that were just a hint on how we had spent our day. The wounds didn't kill her, surprisingly, but took the two young hopefuls that once were inside of her.