HOME | DD

Description
Dear Post Secret,

I wanted to kill him.

We met back in high school and I didn’t really like him. He was loud and crude and said all the wrong things. Most people stayed clear of him, including me. He was a bad person and was never especially nice or compassionate to anyone. He was selfish and craved the attention and adoration of others.

It was the summer of my sixteenth birthday that I passed him in the park. He stopped me for a chat. Reluctantly, I indulged him. We must have been talking for over an hour under that tree before I realised the time. I made my excuses and he let me go on the condition that I returned the following day. I returned the next day, and the next, and the next, and every time he’d force me to make the same promise. I really didn’t want to continue meeting with him. I stopped going and hoped he would forget about me. Sadly, this only made things worse. He waited for me at the end of my street every time I went out and followed me home afterwards. He’d hang around nearby when I was with my friends and text me every night. I was so scared all the time and adapted the habit of always looking over my shoulder, where ever I was.

However, the summer ended, the new term began again and university dictated that we go our separate ways. He caught be before I left and we had a heated argument about the importance of education, and how I said I couldn't sacrifice my studies to meet him all the time. He also shouted me for not turning up to our meetings. He didn’t understand, but I didn't see him again for a while thankfully.
Months later I was on my way to a lecture when I thought I saw him on the other side of the street staring at me. I squinted my eyes but the traffic obstructed my view, and then there was no-one there anymore. I thought nothing of it until I saw him again at my hockey match. He was sitting in the stalls by the side of the pitch, just staring at me. I was sure of it. However, when the match ended I couldn't find him.

A few weeks after that I started to receive anonymous phone calls on my mobile. I was frightened and changed my number. Soon after he finally approached me as I was entering my flat. He grabbed the door, startling me. He shouted at me for not answering his calls and threatened me for ignoring him these past months. He said that there had been no-one else and thought we had something.

I was surprised and asked him to leave but he threw me back against the wall. I hit my head and cried out, slumping to the floor. He picked me up by the hair and dragged me across the room and threw me onto the sofa. I was screaming for help but he struck me across the face hard to shut me up. He stood over me. He was tall and his face looked black from the shadow. I looked round for something to defend myself with. I saw the lamp on the coffee table and without thinking I swung it with all my strength into the side of his head. I swung it again and again, screaming, until he fell to the ground and lost consciousness. The adrenaline racing through my body was urging me to go on and strike him until he stopped breathing. I laughed nervously at the thought and raised the lamp above my head.

I stopped.
Catching myself, I looked down at him lying on the floor. The blood was gushing from the wound on the side of his head. I sank to my knees and wept uncontrollably.
What had I done?!

But the truth is I wanted to kill him. I wanted to feel the life leave him as I pounded away at his head. I wanted to see more blood gush from that wound. I wanted him to never torment me again.

Description
Dear Post Secret,

I wanted to kill him.

We met back in high school and I didn’t really like him. He was loud and crude and said all the wrong things. Most people stayed clear of him, including me. He was a bad person and was never especially nice or compassionate to anyone. He was selfish and craved the attention and adoration of others.

It was the summer of my sixteenth birthday that I passed him in the park. He stopped me for a chat. Reluctantly, I indulged him. We must have been talking for over an hour under that tree before I realised the time. I made my excuses and he let me go on the condition that I returned the following day. I returned the next day, and the next, and the next, and every time he’d force me to make the same promise. I really didn’t want to continue meeting with him. I stopped going and hoped he would forget about me. Sadly, this only made things worse. He waited for me at the end of my street every time I went out and followed me home afterwards. He’d hang around nearby when I was with my friends and text me every night. I was so scared all the time and adapted the habit of always looking over my shoulder, where ever I was.

However, the summer ended, the new term began again and university dictated that we go our separate ways. He caught be before I left and we had a heated argument about the importance of education, and how I said I couldn't sacrifice my studies to meet him all the time. He also shouted me for not turning up to our meetings. He didn’t understand, but I didn't see him again for a while thankfully.
Months later I was on my way to a lecture when I thought I saw him on the other side of the street staring at me. I squinted my eyes but the traffic obstructed my view, and then there was no-one there anymore. I thought nothing of it until I saw him again at my hockey match. He was sitting in the stalls by the side of the pitch, just staring at me. I was sure of it. However, when the match ended I couldn't find him.

A few weeks after that I started to receive anonymous phone calls on my mobile. I was frightened and changed my number. Soon after he finally approached me as I was entering my flat. He grabbed the door, startling me. He shouted at me for not answering his calls and threatened me for ignoring him these past months. He said that there had been no-one else and thought we had something.

I was surprised and asked him to leave but he threw me back against the wall. I hit my head and cried out, slumping to the floor. He picked me up by the hair and dragged me across the room and threw me onto the sofa. I was screaming for help but he struck me across the face hard to shut me up. He stood over me. He was tall and his face looked black from the shadow. I looked round for something to defend myself with. I saw the lamp on the coffee table and without thinking I swung it with all my strength into the side of his head. I swung it again and again, screaming, until he fell to the ground and lost consciousness. The adrenaline racing through my body was urging me to go on and strike him until he stopped breathing. I laughed nervously at the thought and raised the lamp above my head.

I stopped.
Catching myself, I looked down at him lying on the floor. The blood was gushing from the wound on the side of his head. I sank to my knees and wept uncontrollably.
What had I done?!

But the truth is I wanted to kill him. I wanted to feel the life leave him as I pounded away at his head. I wanted to see more blood gush from that wound. I wanted him to never torment me again.