Life is but a Dream...

~Merrily Merrily Merrily Merrily~

Yes...That's it, that's all I have to do..if I kill her, no one will ever know what I said to her.
I walked to the bathroom in the hallway, instead of to the dining room. I could hear her standing in front of the mirror. She was talking to herself. I couldn't quite understand what she was saying though. Something about being nervous.
"Are you ok" I asked, while knocking on the door.
I must've startled her because she opened the door.
"I'm sorry, I was just freshening up." She whispered, walking past me.
"So, I heard Cecelia is doing very well," I overheard my mother say. I was trying to plan a murder, and she just wants to talk about me and my grade. I stopped listening to the conversation, and excused myself from the table.
I need to act fast, she'll be gone before I know it...
"Are you feeling alright," my father questioned" I thought you'd be excited that someone is here to praise you."
I am....you have no idea...
"I'm just not feeling well"
I received puzzled looks from the three, but I just brushed them off, and walked to the kitchen.
Thank God that you cant see the kitchen from the dining room...
I slowly pulled the silverware drawer open, and grabbed the sharpest knife I saw.
Wow, I thought to myself, I'm really doing this...I'm going to murder her..
I shut the drawer, and slowly tiptoed out of the kitchen. Now, it was time to wait.
I decided to sit on the last step, at the bottom of the stairway.
I sat there for what felt like an eternity before I heard my teacher excuse herself from the table.
I heard her walk to the bathroom, and before she shut the door, I hopped up, and tiptoed to the bathroom.
"Is someone there?" She asked, in a whisper, as if she knew it was me.
I took my chance, and opened the door, then shut it again, this time, I locked it.
"W..what are you doing?" She asked. I could tell she was afraid.
"I just wanted to apologize for what I said earlier." I said, lying.
"I.." She paused, obviously thinking about what she wanted to say," I did find it a little weird...." She dragged the word out, as if she was unsure of what she wanted to say.
I can't do this.......
I looked up at her, and then the mirror. I was pale, sweaty, and I was shaking violently.
"Why are your hands behind your back?" She demanded.
My hands were behind my back, I forgot. I squeezed the black handle of the knife, as if this were a dream, I wanted it all to go away.
"Answer me Cecelia" she whisper yelled, obviously not wanting my parents to hear," why are your hands behind your back?!"
Before I answered, and before she could ask anymore questions, I lunged towards her, knife in hand.
My target was her chest or stomach, and she just looked at me. I pulled the knife out, and I just kept stabbing her. 23 times, yes, I counted. My arm and clothes were painted with blood. She didn't fall backwards, and the blood didn't just go everywhere, like in the movies. She just looked down at the floor, and fell on her knees. There was a noise, sort of like a pop, but I'm not sure if it was actually there. I stood there, wondering if what I just did was real. WHAT DID I JUST DO!!!! I screamed at myself. To reassure my self that this was indeed real, I got on my knees, and touched the blood.
This is real, I thought, this is soo real.
I looked at the blood, then over at her.
She's still breathing.
I crawled towards her, but my hand on her wounds.
"I'm so sorry," I sobbed," I had to do it."
I picked her up, and laid her in the tub. I knew they were going to find her, but I didn't want to further her injuries, I'd already done enough damage.
I need to clean this up, and fast.
"Why?" I heard her ask.
I turned around, looking in the mirror. I didn't dare look her in the eye.
"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"
I screamed, and loud enough for my parents to hear.
I heard them run to the door. My father was the first to speak.
"WHATS GOING ON IN THERE?" He asked, knocking frantically.
I open the door, and a look of pure terror found its way to their faces.
My mother started crying, and my father ran to get the phone.
After several minutes of crying and screaming, the police and an ambulance arrived.
The last thing I really remember was being handcuffed, then hit over the head.