Sometimes I hate my life, sometimes I don't even know what's going on. I'm usually in a haze that no one can break, sitting on my cot polishing my knife. My knife is the only thing that understands me. It helps me kill the people that need to go. I noticed the new girl in the room, even though I have only looked at her once when she came in, I still mentally assessed her. She was pretty, but not prettier than me. The scared look on her face, the torn prom dress, everything, it was the same look that everyone came in with. I've been here 7 years, and all the people that came in with me are gone. I'm the only one who knows what goes on when IT takes people out of the small cabin. Only I truly know everything. I've heard what the other girls call me. They say I'm crazy, mad, insane... I can hear them, but they don't know it.
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Our Stay With It
Humor8 girls, 1 cabin, and a shit ton of drama. Sometimes she would ask herself why. Why was there desire in her cold black heart, but no movement in her dying body? She should just do the deed for herself and end her miserable existence. But her conscie...
