Chapter 13: Yellow, Green, Blue and Violet

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Yellow, Green, Blue and Violet

''This is not wrong. This is NOT WRONG. THIS IS NOT WRONG!'' His neighbours could have probably heard Matt if it weren't four o'clock. In the bathroom, there he was, Matt the murderer, the nineteen year old who will spend the rest of his life in prison. He was just standing there, blood dripping through his fingers, dropping on the blood one drop at a time; silent drops, but not distracting Matt. He was looking into the mirror. The mirror he looked at to fix his hair or shave, was now a mirror of self-redemption. Warm blood was the only thing hitting the cold floor as Matt, in a black t-shirt and black tracksuits, stared into his eyes. His hair was damp and covering his right eye, but his body was relaxed and weak looking. His veins were more apparent than ever. What could he do? He had just killed a highly debatable violent person, he had blood on his hands, he had no one in sight, but himself.

Matt DeverauxWhere stories live. Discover now