I watched as her blood reddened the water. I looked down at her. This was what I was trained to do. But then why did it feel so wrong? Did I really want to kill her? I got my answer as I sank to my knees, all my energy leaving my body. I hug her lifeless body and inhuman shrieks come out of my mouth. She was my enemy. I was destined to kill her... but I loved her. I had never admitted this to anyone, not even to myself. Now it was too late.
The old me was dead. The one that didn't fit society's standards of a 'woman'. The new me, the one with blood on her hands, was loved by everyone.
That's good, right?
