It sure wasn't; it wasn't my fault their throats were slit, and it was obviously not mine to blame that their blood were staining the white marble floor. In that split second, I asked myself, 'What the heck are you doing, why are you just standing there like a pile of dead bodies isn't pilling up against your legs?' Was it because I was scared? Scared of what they would do if I move an inch? No, perhaps part of me enjoyed seeing it; their pathetic faces frowned into a startled look, just seconds before the blade slashed out infront of their eyes. They can't blame me for their death, although my right hand was gripping on the blade stained with a red viscous liquid, which dripped down slowly on some kid's dead blue eyes.
Did they have a life before this? Or were they just like me, dragging their vessels from one place to another, asking people to drain the life out of them to maintain their living. Such irony, selling your body to earn some dignity to your soul. Were they happy? Smiling and laughing their days off, pretending the world isn't all that fucked up. They didn't know, but I did.
I knew the light was coming.
Before this day and after it, I would still remain a nobody. A soul without a voice, drifting and fainting into the corner of society. No one will know, as they have never remembered my name. A nameless name. A faceless face. Just another passing by in the crowd, not to be seen and not to be called.
I don't notice them either, as they are all rotten inside; stinking and trashing any place they put their feet on. A fair trade I say, they minding their own business and me minding my drifting without having to see who is following me home.
I'm not saying I'm a good catch, but they sure think I am. With my ragged party dress and bare feet; long strands of black hair tangled infront of my white pale face, redden with alcohol. I don't know where I was going most of the time, but I knew exactly which alley to turn to when they started tagging along, their guts filled with lust and rubbish. The light guided me as always, the same as every other day I haunted the streets.
Did I mention my colour? I'm grey, all I see is grey, all I hear is grey, all I say comes out as a whisper hanging in the air like a grey cloud in the sky. But when the light guides me, everything turns red. Red of blood. Dripping from their lifeless body like a stream; they would flow towards me, and climb up my curves like a snake, slithering its way into my eyes. And I would be happy, I would laugh, for I can see again, the colour red, the colour of life.
