/Psycho/
- Reads 70
- Votes 7
- Parts 7
I laugh, hysterically, as I sharpen my knife."Should have stayed home" I smiled. Smelling the blood from the body beside me gets me excited. Why haven't I done this sooner?! You might call me crazy, but do you know how it feels to inject a knife into a person's body, repeatedly. It makes blood rush through my veins and makes me blackout, in a good way. I wouldn't call it an addiction, I would call it a hobby. I know it isn't a great hobby, but I could care less about what the consequences are.
I sing a lullaby as I am cleaning my blade.
"Rock-a-bye, baby, in the treetop
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock"
I look at the body and smile at my beautiful creation. I, then, start remembering the actions that I did towards the latter and the words they said to me.
"When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all"
Tears left my eyes as I smiled, crazily. If you are wondering why I am acting this way, just know, I had a pretty shitty life.
Hello. My name is Lily.
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