there's blood on my hands.
i wake up in the middle of the night with tears on my pillow and a bloody knife. my soul is stained, my pillow is stained and my memories are tainted.
where's my heart?
it's encased in a block of ice.
i reach for the knife and slowly turn it around in my hand. i love the way it's covered in her blood. her sweet, precious, blood.
my heart keeps on beating and it was more than she could tolerate.
i'm only evil when i need to be. i tried to give her everything she wanted. i tried so hard that it almost cost me my life at times. she was so anxious to start plotting against me and deceiving me that she was too blind to see what was going to come next. i knew she had to die so i could finally rest.
it's only a matter of time before she burns in hell.
YOU ARE READING
empty december.
Teen FictionA short story on the trials and tribulations of a depressed teenage psychopath. LOL, SERIOUSLY. DON'T READ THIS SHIT. I WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS JUST STARTING OUT WITH WRITING. IT'S CRAP. SERIOUSLY, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
