41 Часть Завершенная история Для взрослых"Oh, my God."
I look up from my hands, the blade wet with red liquid.
"Hi", I say cheerily, giving him a wave, laughing as more drips onto my lap. I gently set the knife down on the counter top beside where I'm sitting, my legs covered in knife marks, giving it a loving pat before picking up the next one.
It's too clean. It needs to be pretty.
"Theresa, put the knife down", Jake orders, walking quickly over. "Put it down."
"It's not pretty!", I shout, surprising him. "It doesn't understand!"
He looks at me, looking deep into my eyes for a moment before ripping the blade out of my grasp, dropping it onto the floor.
"Come on. Let's go get you fixed up."
"I don't need fixing!", I scream, kicking my fiancé as he tries to pick me up. "I'm perfect!"
"Shh", he says. "Of course you are."
"You're a liar!", I shriek. "You're trying to make me ugly again! I made art and you don't like it!"
I burst into tears, burying my face in my hands, sticky blood getting all over my face.
Jake ignores me, scooping me up and carrying me into the bedroom, then into the bathroom, locking the door before putting me down on the counter.
"I don't wanna be fixed!", I cry as he wets a washcloth, wiping the red water off of my skin, thrashing as more and more of my masterpiece gets washed away. "Stop! Stop it!"
"Shhh", Jake soothes, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "It's not hurting you."
"You're destroying everything!", I yell. "It was a masterpiece!"
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Theresa Moore. Age:21.
The strange thing about her is, she doesn't remember much. A voice speaks to her in her mind, telling her to kill. Sometimes, the voice, becomes so much more than bossy.
It takes control.
*this is merely a first draft right now. Edits will happen when the story is finished, burn it you find mistakes, please let me know by messaging me