Pebble

My dreams were filled with blood that night. I could see her blood on my hands. Her brains on the stone. Me naked, cold and alone. The rage made a monster out of my flesh. I think the guilt will eat me alive. But I wake knowing that I am not the only one. I am not the only monster. We are all in this together.

After the passage: Washing the blood away was almost worse than the spilling of it. I didn’t know I had it in me to kill. Not until the only thing standing between me and life was HER. That stuck up bitch that thought her life was more important than mine. I almost feel sick at the fact that I almost enjoyed bashing in her head after she told me to just lie down and die and make it easy for her. Why did she get to live? My blood boiled at the thought of letting her best me. So I charged at her. Knocking her on the ground. The flames of raged consumed me br> I grabbed her pretty blonde head and slammed it on the ground. Again. And again. And again. And again Until my breath was labored and I saw her blood everywhere. Her skull was shattered like an egg and her brain pained the stone ground. She was unrecognizable. As I stood my body turned to ice. The flames gone and guilt set in. I walked out dazed. But watching her blood drain away and off of my body now brings the tears to my eyes. I am a muderer now. I am a killer.