The Tears Devourer

"I don't like Mondays; I just did it to make my day." Brenda Ann Spencer That phrase may make you peculiar, something normal, usual, common, and ordinary. What's more, it may even be used by yourself or by people close to you. An even comical phrase, which the media have imposed on us against a background of satire and joke. But in reality, although the idea that Monday is held as the worst day of the week seems to be from this century, it was said by someone forty years ago (1979), at the end of the seventies, and in a context not very healthy, much less comical, at least, not for their victims or their families. Brenda Spencer was a teenager of only 16 years old when she said that, when she was arrested by the police after shooting clothes at an educational institution, from one of the windows of her house for six agonizing, thunderous, and chilling long hours. An ordinary person, like you or me, who one day simply decided to shoot a group of children because she noticed that they were easy prey... Oh, right, and because she was bored. Some time ago a very close friend had a pending writing assignment, a job that consisted of writing something, whatever came to you and inspired you but only using a limit of sheets specified by the teacher. My friend wrote a story related to drugs. A girl trapped in a cell, from which it was almost impossible to escape. She never really wanted to lengthen the story, so I asked her permission to create a novel based on those few written sheets. Time passed and I was not very clear about what I wanted to write on top of that short, but intense story. One of my personal pleasures is reading about the mental capacity of man, and this also includes his defects. Watching a documentary about Ted Bundy, I was bitten by the curiosity bug, and I started to read more in-depth about sociopathy (symptoms, treatments, and examples), and I was surprised that there are more than I imagined (cases), and that the number of mental illnesses of these characteristics has grown over time in a regrettable and silent way. Now sociopaths hide much better in a society shrouded in commercial garbage and fallacies in all the media. It was then, and only then, that I thought about writing about it, and taking as a basis that little story of yesteryear that I promised to follow, but did not fulfill, until now. Rapes, drugs, executions, kidnappings... All of this is closely linked and happens from day to day without even realizing it, because they do not inform us at all well, or even worse, because we turn our heads when they put us the putrid reality in front. This book is a wake-up call for anyone who believes that progress in our civilized society is directly proportional to its perversion. You will notice that it is divided into numeric subtitles since it will only contain four main chapters, which will be accompanied by various epigraphs, chilling phrases spoken by people who at some point in history existed (and exist), just to make others perish. The facts that you will read next are my own, ideas created and based on hours of information collected, but they are not historical or bibliographic events. That is, it is a compilation of fragments of life from the worst class of people you can imagine, but not focused on just one, and based on that, I managed to create an original and fictitious story. A satire on prejudice, and aggressive enough to give you the illusion that it is real. Without further clarification, I hope from the bottom of my being, you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed it... Or this time not so much, in writing it.