nightmares

The world shook as the screams of a mother to be filled the air. As the world around the tiny nameless child filled with men and women running around like headless chickens, setting up control of this new life, the universe was already making plans.

The reason I say the universe, is because no act of any god would create a pure evil which would become the infamous Jon Doe.

You, my dear reader are just like the rest, wanting to hear the downfall and background to one of the most fabled killers of our time.

I hope I satisfy your needs, dear reader



I was sat at home with my mum, the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the air. We were sat on the worn leather sofas and mum was telling me once again how I was brought into this world, but I wasn't listening, I had my own problems.

My name is Jon, Jon Doe. I'm eleven years old and I am currently living out of boxes. Me and mum, we were kicked out of our old place and out of my fathers' life. He accused mum of cheating on him. She denied it, of course. This was about three years ago that the accusation was first aired, but nothing has been right since.

Last week was the last time I saw my old bedroom, the way I left it, and the time I saw my dad.

But that's okay, because I've met a girl. Her name is Gemma, and she is really sweet. Her dirty blonde hair that runs half way down her back and the way it falls neatly into place. And then there's the eyes, oh nobody could ever forget those eyes. A perfect blue of tropical waters, which just slightly darkens around the edge. No matter what Gemma wears she always pulls it off.

Gemma likes me, I think. That's why I think I'll tell her about my past...

"Jon? Earth to Jonny boy, anyone there?" Its mum, she must have asked me a question or realised that my thoughts were somewhere elsewhere.

"Sorry mum." I mumble, "Just a bit tired, that's all. What else did you say, sorry?" I feel bad, mum loves this story, and I can see she is hurt.

"Oh, nothing darling. Just wondered what you wanted for dinner?"

That wasn't what mum said originally, but I go with it, to not cause a scene.

"Anything'll be fine mum, I love you." I stand and walk over to the tiny kitchen area and get a glass of warm water and I think to myself that this is it, the rest of my life in this tiny grubby apartment, or others like it.

"I'm going to go lie down and read for a bit, mum." I leave the tiny living area and enter my even smaller bedroom.

And the term bedroom has never been so literal. It's a mattress, on the floor, with about one pace from the door to the mattress. This is my kingdom of crappy paintworks, splintered floor boards and absolute darkness.

In this tiny space I brood about my life, how my parents used to argue.

How those vile, inhuman beasts trapped me and taunted me because I was different. It was because I wanted to learn. I was also fat, short and had nothing the rest of the world did, other than a brain and a broken home.

There are things I can't write in this book, if I did, it would never get printed. Unfortunately what can't be printed are most of the insults hurled at me.

Lard arse was their favourite insult I can write in here.

Suddenly I was thrown back into the past. Year six, and everybody was mocking me for getting a high mark in my SATs. I acted as if it was no big deal, but I hated myself more than those wretches ever could. I see the face of my personal hell, and as if a million volts of electric were coercing through my veins, I jolt back to the day I met the beast that had consumed Daniel for the last time.

Year three and I was eating my lunch. He came over to me and to this day I still remember his words. Because they destroyed my life.

"Oi, fatty," Daniel yells from across the dining hall."You want another cream cake?" I just sat there, ignoring him. My lonely table in the corner was spaced the same distance as every other table in this room, and yet I felt poles apart from the others.

Daniel came marching over, as if he owned the place.

"Oi, are you def as well as fat and ugly?" By this time he was towering over me and all he saw was a tiny helpless bug. "Answer me, lard arse!"He yelled at me and I lurched towards the table in fear. Dan didn't want my head to stop where I did, so with a little bit of help from his hand, my face plummeted into my tomato soup. There was silence all around, and for a moment I thought I was dead. As my head gravitated towards the back of my chair I quickly and quietly grabbed my knife, which sat coldly in the palm of my hand.

Poor Daniel never saw me pick the knife up, but the image will remain with him, I would say until he died, but that as the last time he breathed clearly. His wind pipe was sliced clean open as I swivelled, stood, swept and sliced the knife across his thin, bony neck.

It all happened so quickly, none of the staff or other students could save him. Poor Daniel, I saw red, and not just the red of the soup. After that I...I

I jolt awake screaming from the ghosts of my past. Daniel died that day in year three, but he never has left my side since. He plagues me, every moment of my life he stands guard over my body, like a wretched, insane brute of a guard dog. He protects me for one reason;

To have me for himself.

I check the time, its half past two in the morning. I go out into the main living area and head for the tiny kitchen, and all the while dodging crates and boxes of my life.

I hear a noise behind me; I quickly dive for the light and just manage to flick it on. As I turn, a figure all too well known to me steps out of the shadows.

"Hi mum," I say tiredly, resuming my path to the kitchen. "Did I wake you?"

"Oh, I'm fine Jon. What are you doing awake so late?" Mum knows why I'm awake and why I will not be able to sleep tonight.

Jon Doe. It's a name people give at hotels and tuff when they don't want others to know who they are. That's why I chose it, oh, a little confused are we? I see you thought that a murderous psychopath would walk free? You were wrong. I ended up in a mental home until I was eight, mum was my main carer. You see, she isn't my real mother, but she has been the closest thing to one, and I am thankful even for that. When it was deemed acceptable for my release, Dawn adopted me, well she adopted the Jon Doe, not the murderous Ben Hill.

The day I left everything behind, again. I was told that I was cured and that I could leave. I was confused, the last time I saw my real mother she told me that I was vile, that she hated me. That was the last time my life was ruined.