i stare at myself in the mirror once again
i didn't think i'd ever be here, to be honest
i stare into my own stained soul
stains
i smile
i laugh
i'm in hysterics
lying on the ground, tears flowing down my cheeks
but it isn't funny
i laugh for a while longer
catch my breath
and think
i take a safety pin and prick my finger
it releases a deep red
it's what i expected as i am, somehow, still human
i wipe my finger on a towel
it leaves a small, red stain
stains
i turn off the bathroom light and go into the kitchen
my roommate won't notice a knife missing, will she?
no.
she won't
i take the knife and tuck it in my bag along with my phone, keys, and wallet
what?
i have to look as if i've simply gone out for coffee or, perhaps, to get another household necessity
i remember the apartment number
he lives in the same building as us
if he's not home
i'll simply leave a little note
but if he is
well well well
you all know what comes next, don't you
i take the quick stroll to his apartment
i peek through the peephole
i listen through the door
slipping a piece of string between the door frame and the door, easily entering the once locked apartment
i remove my socks and shoes to quiet my entry
the beer and vomit stains on the carpet are all to familiar, but it won't matter soon
stains
searching for a place to hide, i locate the cupboard
as small as i am, i know i can fit
i squeeze myself in
i left my bag on the counter
if he's drunk he won't think a thing of it
it'll be all too familiar to him, too
i hear the socked footsteps coming down the stairs
he's humming to himself
fucking idiot
he stands directly in front of the cupboard i'm in, but quickly shifts, so i can open it ever so slightly
i do
and i make a slit on his shin
the blood
trickles
down
.
.
.
he turns around, facing his island but notices the cut
i come out of the cupboard
the phrase "stabbed in the back" applies all to much to this situation
don't think i won't take anything seriously
he falls and screams
i drag the body to the carpet
place a pillow under his head
the red stain on the carpet is spreading
stains
i make sure he can see me for just a second
the police will be here soon
i take the knife and my bag and leave as soon as i came
once i'm back in my apartment
i clean off the knife under the sink
place it back in the knife block
i take back to the bathroom
i prick my finger again with the safety pin
still human..?
i wipe my finger on the towel, next to the previous one, leaving another small, red stain
stains
i look the mirror
my pupils are constricted
i look like a maniac
the blood on my hands isn't coming off
neither are the stains on my soul
stains
.
.
.
.
.
i'm going to hell
