Of course, before you judge me, I would like for you to know that my father beat me something fierce when I was younger. Perhaps it's because he didn't love me, or, simply hated me, but mother said that this simply wasn't the case; it was rather that I came when times were hard. Being born around the time of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the Bush Era, and of course, the Great Recession, I understood fully. For a time.

Of course, this kind of physical abuse tore me apart mentally, and, I developed a clinical diagnoses of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. That is irrelevant, to some extent. However, the worst part was what he always said, that taunted me greatly (or more correctly, horribly.) Which was "I know you can". You see, like any child, I would always plea for him to stop, usually by insisting that I could improve. Again, his response was: "I know you can"

Of course, I began to hate him, and couldn't tolerate this any longer at a certain point. I began to bare ill will to him. Bad intentions. Horrible Intentions. As you are almost certain of, murderous intentions. I wasn't much of a plotter, though, I was intelligent, which, is, irrelevant. Sorry. Well, the intelligent part. I worked simply off of instinct usually,

Of course, this is why he died like he did. Instinct. When I grabbed the gun he was hitting me with (yes, he was stupid enough to poke and hit me with a loaded gun.) I pointed it a him. I really wouldn't have shot him, except he said. "I can be better." Guess what I said? You know it.

July 5th, 2016

-Confession of Carl Paulson