KISS MY KNIFE!

A replacement is a replacement!

Dark, it is. Dark it will be. Always. The days are going slower and slower for every second and every minute. Soon I will be the executer of all executers, or at least I thought so.

Leila! I could hear my mom yell, from the kitchen "come down and eat meri jaan"/Hindi: my love/. I will, just wait 2 minutes!

- I just have to rub this blood off, I mumbled. Ugh it's a brand new knife; I should have used some of my other ones. Uff forget it, I said and threw it in the bucket under the sink, and where the other dirty knifes was.

So what it is mom? I said coming down the stairs. Come, sit. I sat down; saw my mom's face expression. Is something wrong mom? Uhm no not really, what's that on your shirt. I looked down, fuck! I ran up again. Came down with a new blouse on. Why did you go up again? You could just have washed it here in the sink. Didn't think of that, sorry I said and took a bite of the potato.

- So how is school going?

- Great! We just got a new dumb English teacher

- Why? What happened to the last one? She asked, worried.

- Mr. Mukesh died I said, taking some rice on my plate.

- How?

- Can we please not talk about it? Carry on, mom please eat.

Full. I was laying here on the sofa. Looking at my lonely mother. My dad left us when I was 5, he found a new bitch somewhere in Mumbai. I like to believe that I was too good to be his daughter or maybe I was too evil to be his daughter. My dad was a well-known man here in Delhi. Other than I still hated him, he had always given me pocket money. Guess what I used them on. K-N-I-F-E-S. I am and will always be an annoying daughter for him. He forgot to send me money last month; he properly thinks I'm getting a job soon. Nope daddy, that aint happening. Why bust your ass when your daddy-ji is having a big income. My mom said I should leave him alone. She hates him, of course. But I think that giving a little pain to every person can bring them on their seat. I would never do him anything though. Mom! I'm going up. Ok, Leila I want you to make your homework. I will I said, she gave me a glass of milk and then I walked up the stairs. I turned on my laptop, I like to have it out in the background if I need more help to my homework. Not because I had friend on there but because I had my best friend on there. Exactly. Google. I was about to make an assignment. I have to say, as a 17 year old girl I still hated English. Nothing was wrong about the subject but everything was wrong with the teacher of the subject. "Mr. Mukesh" I wrote in the word-document under all 23 people that was killed here in the past. Are you surprised yet? 17 and killing, not really attractive. Other than blood – blood fascinated me into doing things I would never dream of doing. Like Mr. Mukesh, nice man and a fucking pedophile! He lost his temper on me. In class. Took me to the principal's office. Not really the principal's office but the teachers' bathroom. He started getting freaky with me, pulled up my skirt, and felled my legs up to my pussy. Rubbed it a little. He was strong. Held on me hard and told me to give him blow-job.

I didn't do it.

I felt it. I was getting wet. Down there. I wanted it. But not really. It had to stop. He was the teacher who actually tried to have an affair with my mom. How disgusting could this even get? I pulled up my pepper spray from the little pocket I always had my pocket money in, not that it was allowed to bring pepper spray to school. I sprayed him, right in the eyes. He fell down, on his knees. He screamed as a sharp knife came in and up again from his back 4 times. After 5 minutes of major blood stop, he was finally dead. I'm not saying it was by me.

Shh..Don't tell any. It was me. Haha. All 23 people.

I cleaned off the mess I had made on myself. And I cleaned my beautiful knife. Slowly and slowly I felt his soul behind me, kissing my neck. I started to panic, not because I haven't done this before. But because it was the fucking teachers bathroom. So I hurried up. Dried my knife with a paper towel, ran  out. Crashed the fire-alarm glass. While running out I could hear a screaming of kids in my head. Everything went completely slow. As if the demons were after me. I zoned out. But I knew what to do. Just run straight out to the playground. I was sitting right on the ground when everyone was running out. Unfortunely no one found out. Not a single tweak from anybody who thought the killer could be me. It hit me hard when the principal said I was at his office at that time, when the police-officer asked him question about Mukesh's dead body. I mean was all this planned between Mr. Mukesh and the principal. Or was the Principal just drunk. I guess we will never find out. I ran home before my mom came home from work. I threw my uniform in the bin. I had like 4 of them and my mom didn't know that. That's was basically the story behind his dead.

Why does is suddenly feel so lonely in this world. It's a very peculiar world we are all living in. Going around with thousands of emotions. Looking at each other and saying fuck my life man, he or she is doing way better than me. You see. Neither of those sentence have anything good thing to say about your life. We are simply never happy. We think, we are. But deep down inside we have a tendency to worry. Worry about what if God is just blessing you so when you think you are blessed he is going to let you stand on your own and see. There. You fell. The happiness simply is not here.

Who do we think we are?