psychotic

You stood outside the house, wrapped in a thick blanket. The paramedic asked you questions about the events prior. What happened, do you know why it happened, who did it? Questions you were asking yourself.

You knew what happened. You saw it with your own eyes. The blood as it stained the once white carpet, their bodies falling limply to the floor, to never move again. The sounds of their cries and screams echoing through the halls.

You knew why it happened. You had caused it, created a monster. One that would come to end everything you loved to have you to himself. He did it for love. Some sick form of love.

You knew who did it. His name locked on the tip of your tongue, his face forever engraved into memory.