Pyromania

In case you haven't guessed yet morons I have severe pyromania. I burn things as small as flower petals to things as big as eighteen wheelers. Grandfather's books as well, the book holding Eugene's memories which he was hoping to transplant to someone else, I burnt that and that's why he hates me. It's no problem as Grandfather can have all of mine, he'll just transplant them and I'll live again. But then again I wouldn't be writting this if I believed that.

I burnt that pretty little lady of his alive. Simon had a female friend and she was very close to him so she had to go because otherwise I would be alone just like Eugene said I'd be without him and I refuse to let him be right about anything. Even pleading words that he screeched as he grabbed on to my leg crying Aria, Aria softly like a child. He wasn't as cruel as I had first thought so I did burn him, alive actually. I digress though, I burnt that lady alive as she was like me but more refined. She killed with the silver tipped knife and the honey tongue while I, favoring things that weren't so prideful, killed with flames and roses. I wonder if Grandfather keeps a rose in the book with my memories.