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...i was only 13.

I was so excited, the smell from the petrol was cloying in my nose, the acrid stench burning the back of my throat. I was commiting murder and first-degree arson.

I did make sure that I was being left alot of money first, otherwise this would be for nothing, and of course I was being left £1.6mil enough to keep me going for a few years!

My cover story was an intruder had broken into the house and stabbed my mother and father not realising I was in the house and proceeded to burn the house down, and me just escaping in the nick of time.

The moment I took the Knife and slit my fathers throat was the best in my life, the first spray of blood hitting me in the face made me so jovial. It was warm and hot, his eyes flew open and the shock in them was by far the best emotion I had seen on my fathers face. Then he died and I did the same to my mother.

Then I lit the match.

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