Janie is a young girl in her mid twenties living out her last day on death row. She wants the world to know what she went through as a child that got her to where she is, the most prolific female serial killer of all time. She talks in detail about her childhood growing up with a prostitute mother who sold her for drugs, the man that she thought was her father was really her mother’s dealer and pimp. The pain that she has as a child trying to understand why her family isn’t like the families she sees on television and trying to find love and acceptance but not being able to understand why she can’t have it. She writes this letter to her mother to let her know she is to blame for the person she has become. After enjoying her last meal the fluids are injected into her arm and as she dies she asks for the one thing she never received in all of her life, compassion.
DI/ Female- Last Words
- Dear mom, I woke up this morning trying to decide exactly what I was going to say and who I was going to say it too and I decided that if today was going to be my last day it was going to be a day of honesty. Do you know what that means? (Laughs) Today I say mom, Evelyn James, you are the reason that I am where I am today. I don't place blame I place absolute conviction in the fact that had you not been my mother, given birth to me in the way that you did, brought me up in the life that you did, I may have had a better, what is it that they say disposition, to make better choices. Now I count down the hours that will turn into minutes that will turn into seconds that will soon end my life. Mom you can absolutely go straight to hell. I guess in a matter of hours I'll see you there. Love Janie. When I was a kid I grew up on good wholesome American shows. (Laughs) My mother would yank me out of bed by my arm and set me up in front of the television and throw me a box of cereal and laugh as she tossed me expired milk and that was pretty much my life. That was my mother being attentive. (Thinking back) It …it was like living in the best dream ever, every day. I would always fixate myself on The Brady Bunch and Leave It To Beaver. Could life get any better? They both had catchy theme melodies that I would dance to when the episodes came on: I didn't care that Beaver was in black and white or that the Brady's were from another time- they were all I wanted. A mother and father that both lived in the house together and loved each other; add in the perfect kids and it was perfect. That was the biggest misconception for me as a child was that I thought that was the life that I was supposed to have and didn't understand why I couldn't find it. The dad would come home from work smiling laughing almost dancing on air and his kids.