The Asylum Confessions (The Asylum Confession Files, #1)

by Jack Steen

It was a recipe for getting rid of the bad men. With simple cleaning products, I was able to make sure his friends stopped touching me, stopped hurting me.

I learned how to make them meals that would hurt them. Sometimes they even died. Those, I didn’t mind Daddy leaving in the dirt. The animals always found them. I made sure of that.

He only hugged me and asked me to let him know if I noticed any more rats. I thought about all the men who still came to the house. The jug beneath the sink was still half full. I told him there were only a few more rats, but I had enough to deal with them.

I killed him. I killed my father, the father of my children and I had no regrets. I still have no regrets.

All I wanted was to be a mother and that chance was ripped from me time after time. I would have made a good mother to my babies, I know it.

Please don’t ask me if I’m sorry though. I’m not sorry for killing my Daddy. I’m not sorry and never will be.

It’s time for me to see my babies now.

In fact, I'm sure that if you are a parent with children needing care, my next patient would have stolen your heart with love and kindness before she stole it due to fear, tragedy, and death. Let me introduce you to the Nanny.

It's amazing what someone can get away with when all they do is smile, look you straight in the eye, and make you believe every single lie they tell. Not everyone can do that.

We are who we need to be to fit or fulfill a role others have placed upon us.

In this case, nurture would have won over nature. Maybe nurture would have become my nature. Who knows.

all the things we could have done mean nothing because what we do is what we will always do if given the chance to redo our mistakes.

Those words that murderer said to me, have never left me. I was alone and in order to survive, I had to be strong. Stronger than the others in my life. And so I was.

What most people don't understand, though, is that being personable isn't being personal.

Sometimes, there is no war between nature and nurture. Sometimes they work hand-in-hand.

The choice was mine and I wasn't a quitter. I wasn't a victim, either, and I sure as hell wasn't going to be defeated by two people who didn't deserve an ounce of my love.

That's all people really want anyway, to be seen, to know they're worthy and it doesn’t matter if they are children or adults.

I have no regrets. I was stronger than most people. I didn't turn a blind eye, I didn't pretend nothing happened or that it wasn't any of my business.

I loved those children more than their own parents, which is the worst sin of all.

He never said the words, never told me exactly who he was but I knew. I think I always knew, from the first time he handed me a candy to suck on during one of William's pompous sermons. He was my parents' murderer. He was my friend.

Every child deserves to be loved and treated with love.