Inspired by the movie Lovely Bones.
I threw away the bloody knife and looked at myself in the mirror.
I'm a murderer.
I didn't mean to kill my neighbor but I've been wanting to love her for the longest and she didn't want to comply. I put her chopped up body in a black plastic bag and placed the corps in a safe. Time was slowly ticking before her parents will notice but they'll never know that it was I who committed the crime.
But then again I loved the way her screams echoed throughout the house and her sweet blood oozing through my hands slowly.
Why did I kill her and detach her small body? Maybe she could have given our forsaken love a try.
Innocent lovers always dies.
Her warm blood remains to run code red, it's getting harder and harder to remove it from my fingers. Finally, I noticed the sanity of this is perfect. I just express my emotions in a different way. My schizophrenia spoke out loud and got the best of me but what can I do if it is deep inside of me.
I didn't feel alone as I felt her presence right besides me, the air soon confess to a sin. Yet here I am smiling at my horrible mistake.
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