My Lucy's Life
I first saw Lucy scratching on the window of the mall's pet store. Passing by an hour later, Lucy was still scratching the window. It seems that Lucy was trying to escape her imprisonment. There were little poops and urine all over her and on the paper in the confined space where she was displayed.
I was curious and genuinely angry about her filthy environment. I confronted a salesperson who told me she was a Bichon Frise and scheduled for removal, “Removal?” The salesperson said she had this problem of scratching on the window all day. Because of her behavior, no one wanted her. Originally $2000, she was now $100. If she didn’t sell by the end of the day, she would be euthanized. I indignantly purchased Lucy and left.
I researched Lucy’s behavior and found out puppies from ‘Puppy Mills’ often got ‘Cage Rage’. It was also apparent that it had affected her terribly. For the first six months, I slept on my couch, Lucy between me and the couch. If I felt her stir, I would take her out. She finally learned to alert me that she had to go. I installed a doggy door, and it took another six months to train her to use it.
We became the best of friends. She slept with me at night and woke up with me in the mornings. Lucy was a kind and loving dog. She never left my side or bared her teeth. The only trick she ever learned was sitting, but I didn’t care, after all, she was Lucy. After serious medical issues, she died in my arms 14 years later. I cried like a baby then, as I am now. I will never forget Lucy. She taught me loyalty, patience, and most of all, unconditional love.
~Edmund
Somewhere beyond the walls of his deathbed, the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES is marked for assassination—and Ted knows exactly why.
A bullet has torn through his abdomen, shredding his liver and leaving him with only hours to live. Bleeding out in the silence of a darkened room, Ted Roth lies on the edge of death—his body failing, his mind racing.
As pain surges through him in relentless waves, he realizes there is only one thing left to do: confess.
Reaching for a handheld tape recorder beside his bed, he begins the final account of a life built on violence, manipulation, and the slow corrosion of the human soul.
What follows is not merely the story of a killer—it is the anatomy of a monster made, not born. A chilling descent into childhood trauma, buried secrets, political corruption, and the dark machinery of power that shaped him. From his first murder at the age of ten to the deadly conspiracy that would shake a nation, Ted’s voice exposes the horrifying path that led him here.
His first words are as cold as death itself:
“My name is Ted Roth. I used a knife to kill my first victim. His name was Charlie. He was eleven years old; I was ten.”
Disturbing, hypnotic, and impossible to forget, this psychological thriller pulls readers into the mind of a man whose final confession may be the only key to understanding a president’s murder—and the true face of evil.
Because sometimes, the face of death looks just like everyone else.
https://t.co/35hXzW3XxQ
Somewhere beyond the walls of his deathbed, the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES is marked for assassination—and Ted knows exactly why.
A bullet has torn through his abdomen, shredding his liver and leaving him with only hours to live. Bleeding out in the silence of a darkened room, Ted Roth lies on the edge of death—his body failing, his mind racing.
As pain surges through him in relentless waves, he realizes there is only one thing left to do: confess.
Reaching for a handheld tape recorder beside his bed, he begins the final account of a life built on violence, manipulation, and the slow corrosion of the human soul.
What follows is not merely the story of a killer—it is the anatomy of a monster made, not born. A chilling descent into childhood trauma, buried secrets, political corruption, and the dark machinery of power that shaped him. From his first murder at the age of ten to the deadly conspiracy that would shake a nation, Ted’s voice exposes the horrifying path that led him here.
His first words are as cold as death itself:
“My name is Ted Roth. I used a knife to kill my first victim. His name was Charlie. He was eleven years old; I was ten.”
Disturbing, hypnotic, and impossible to forget, this psychological thriller pulls readers into the mind of a man whose final confession may be the only key to understanding a president’s murder—and the true face of evil.
Because sometimes, the face of death looks just like everyone else.
https://t.co/35hXzW3XxQ