Je suis une villain (written by Alessia)

One

Blood...my hands are soaked in blood. It's not my blood though... I've been washing my hands for about half an hour and yet it still stinks of blood. My hands are bruised and rough from all the millions of times I've washed these hands.
I'm in a public restroom of some random cafe. I look into the mirror and all I want is to look away. I see a hideous corpse soaked in blood glaring at me.
I hear footsteps approaching the restroom and immediately think of hiding... I'm afraid I might scare whoever it is that's about to walk in through that door. I stand still and wait for them to enter because, a part of me wants to see their reaction.
A tall woman walks in through the door and even though I'm not looking at her directly, I can sense that she is terrified. I lift my face and turn to her. She's a blue-eyed blonde, doesn't seem to be older than twenty eight or something. She's wearing a bright pink dress and currently staring at me with her hands covering her mouth probably because she's trying not to scream. I bet her feet are stuck to the ground and she probably can't even move. She manages to spit out a single word out after staring at me for a good fifteen minutes.
"You" is all she manages to say.
But then, surprisingly she manages to continue.
"...have blood all over your shirt..."
"..."
"A-are y-you h-hurt" she stutters.
"... it's not mine" I say in a very quiet voice almost a whisper.
She looks at me with wide eyes and I'm assuming she wants an explanation. But, I don't give a shit wether she's traumatised or not, I'm not required to explain anything to anyone and it's bothersome.
I pass right beside her and stop at the door. Without looking behind me, I whisper "you saw nothing" and exit the cafe. Pfft! That should leave her traumatised for about her entire life. She probably thought that she witnessed some murder scene or something.

I'm heading home in the bloody t-shirt I've had on since morning. I've washed all the blood from my face and hands yet every time I look at them, all I see is blood... probably the ghosts of all the bitches I killed haunting me. They're welcome to, I don't care.

I was nine when my mother left. My father bought in his bitch and they planned every single thing imaginable to kill me,failed. Hahahahaha, at some point I started thinking I'm immortal. I was sixteen when I ran away from "home". Ran around the whole city and came back at noon to see...them laughing and enjoying like it's the best day. I stood out the window that day and decided I don't need these so called guardians. I went on a search...to find mom, my real birth mother and not that bitch. After doing a bunch of things and living as a street thief for five years, I finally found news about my mother. Turned out that a month after she left that house, she died of a heart attack. But, I found that suspicious and looked into it more...found out that they poisoned my mother and killed the rest of the relatives from my mom's side. I was extremely raged and depressed for quite some time but as time passed, I finally decided I needed revenge.

I was twenty seven when my "father", his bitch and my step siblings died in a massive fire... caused by unknown reasons. Apparently, the fire was big enough to even burn the camera's nearby their house. It was the perfect murder.