This is a genuine psychological test.

It is a story about a young lady. While at the funeral of her own mother, she met this guy whom she did not know. She thought this guy was amazing. So much her dream man she believed him to be, she fell in love with him right there. Unfortunately she forgot to ask for his number and could not find him afterwards. A few days later the girl killed her own sister.

Question: What is her motive in killing her sister?

Give this some thought for a while before you scroll down. Don’t cheat and be as honest as possible.

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Answer: She was hoping that the guy would appear at the funeral again.

If you answered this correctly, you think like a psychopath. This was a test by a famous American psychologist used to test if one has the same mentality as a killer. Many arrested serial killers took part in this test and answered it correctly. If you didn’t answer correctly – good for you. If you got the answer correct, please let me know so I can take you off my e-mail list… unless that will tick you off, then I’ll just be extra nice to you from now on!!!

From http://telcontar.net/Misc/psychtest.php

I would have never thought that was the answer XD. I guessed something along the lines of, the girl saw him with her sister or something. I would make a terrible serial killer. And I’m glad about that.

Psychology seems to interest me more every day. Oh, and yesterday I got rather hurt with my maths teacher because he said I had proved to him I wasn’t committed to the subject, instead I’d been giving moral support. It made me pissy, because I try to be absolutely committed with absolutely everything. And being there for someone sometimes is more important.

I’m tired. Mentally exhausted. I want a break. Thinking about the future confuses me and makes me tired.

Oh, and I haven’t studied french. Not even revised vocabulary or tenses, so I have a guilty conscience.

I want to play the violin, but Estefi’s sleeping. I would play that song, that one that Hatsuho helped me remember by telling me to think it was a story about a boy who had a fish that died. 

[deep breath] I’ve unworked me now .  Oh and even if the story seems tragic, that’s a pretty song…mais non, je dois practiquer mon Vivaldi, mon étude; mon rue à la Perfection.

 (et je dois practiquer mon francais)

It’s Time for a Nesquik!