Compared to the average person, I think most people’d say I done more bad than good in this life. See, most people never actually get put in a situation where they have to kill somebody. I reckon if they did, they’d feel differently ‘bout me and my decisions. I never set out wantin’ to kill no one - at least not at first. But when it comes to protectin’ my family, all bets are off.

I was born in central South Carolina, in a little town called Elgin. I didn’t grow up with too much, but I also didn’t grow up with too little. Mama took real good care of me and Jamie - she even protected us from Daddy most of the time. She’d take a black eye before she’d let him lay a hand on either of us. And when I hit Daddy over the head with his old baseball bat and killt him, she took to buryin’ the body. Didn’t even say nothing or chastise me neither. She just came inside, washed the dirt off her hands, and started preparin’ supper like nothin’ was wrong.

After I killt Daddy things got real good. Jamie and I got to play in the livin’ room whenever we wanted, and Mama even let us talk durin’ supper! Those were the best times I remember. I didn’t kill nobody for all those years. Well, other than that mean boy Carl. He was pickin’ on my sweet Jamie, so I had to learn him a lesson. I killt him on accident, honest! Jamie said so too! She even helped me bury him deep in the woods.