The Voices Are The Only Ones Who Understand
A knife stained with blood falls to the floor with a clash. The girl’s body lays limp and twitching in the middle of the room. I’m breathing heavily, and I hear it echo down the halls and bounces off the walls. The blood brings a sweet but bitter taste of copper pennies to my lips as it streams down my cheeks. I carefully use my fingers to wipe the blood from my face down the side of my recently ripped jeans. Then I try my best to move around the body and the blood pooling around her.
I whisper softly as if talking to her lifeless body “This never would’ve happened if you just knew your place in this world dear sister.
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