Jar of hearts
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- Parts 1
I slide the sharpened knife along my fingers, i can feel the knife slowly cutting my skin. I can feel my heart beating faster and faster. I walk into the warm living room. My foot steps are as quiet as a mouse. I stop in front of the armchair where Greta is sitting. I hold my breath.
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Sweat was beading on my forehead and dripping down my neck. The lady in front of me bled from her chest in slow deep pulses. The pulses became slower and slower, quieter until they stopped. Why am I here? I'm innocent, I'm not meant to be here.
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