I want to start off by saying I’m sorry. I really mean that this time. It's not like before when I’d say I’m sorry only to make fun of you for begging me to stop, only to inflict more pain and this time harder.

     What I did was wrong, and I can see that now. I wasn’t always like this.

     Playing with tinies when I was growing up was regarded a lot differently than today. Now, it's almost expected of people to have tinies, and it's even legal in some places. As a child and adolescent, playing with tinies was treated a lot like how drugs were in the early 2000’s. Everyone would tell you that its bad (Because we still saw tinies as humans back then), and you knew it was wrong, but you also knew everyone has done it at least once in their life, some more than others.

     My parents were very avid on the fact that drugs were bad. They would also say how important it was for me to go to church every weekend, despite never being inside a church themselves in fifteen years.

     I remember the first time I ever questioned my parents belief that hurting tinies was wrong. I was 11, playing with my older brother’s hand-me-down toy cars on the living room floor, when we heard a knock on my door. It was two representatives from the salvation army. They were asking for donations to help stop the trafficking of human tinies. My dad slammed the door in his face without a second thought, and he went back to reading his newspaper. I don’t think my mom ever stopped to look up from her phone.

     That was by no means the time when I decided I’d start hunting down and playing with tiny people of my own. That wouldn’t be until later.

     I’m writing this diary here as a way to make sense of the way my life turned out. Everyone is so evil today. It wrenches my heart to see how everybody treats tiny people. Things were different back when I was young and it was just me and my friends torturing tinies as a way to get back at a cruel and uncaring world.

     I’m 28 now, and I feel my life is at a stand still. I need to move on from everything I have done if I ever want to get my life moving again.

     I’ll never forget the day one of my tinies told me I was Satan’s daughter. I got such a high off of that, and her words didn’t do any favors to the tinies that came after her.

I've tortured, I've maimed, I've killed. And I've enjoyed the whole things.

I want to end this, again, by saying I’m sorry.

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This chapter was just a prelude to her diary, the story begins next chapter. I'll add more tags as the story progresses and Haley starts to do more things, but for now, I hope you enjoy!