I dropped the large, stained red, kitchen knife.
*klink* it fell to the floor.
I looked down to my red hands.
"Why.." I whispered to myself.
I woke up with a shudder, fast breathing, crying.
I looked down to see my bloody hands, the blood flowing onto my blue blanket.
"Why do you do this.." I sobbed quietly.
"Because I love to.." his cold, unbearable voice whispered in my mind.
"I hate you!" I yelled in my mind.
"Like you hate your past." he said, calmly, but torturingly.
I stayed silent.
"Just remember, it's all your fault." he whispered.
YOU ARE READING
Evil Heart Trusts
FantasyYou're forced to hold the world's pain in your heart. It doesn't help that you're evil passion burns every time you're actually happy. You're not normal. You don't even know what normal is. What would you do if you were forced to be something you're...
