Love? What A Total Cliché

I looked myself in the mirror. Blood was all over the clothes I just bought. I couldn't take it no more. I had to do it. I dropped the knife and used the sink for support, because any minute I would snap. Why? Why me? I'm a killer. But I didn't mean to do this. But they deserved this. Someone called my name. I wiped my face, and went downstairs. "Please help me." They coughed out blood. "But you hurt me. You deserve this." I cried. They were going to say something, but they were gone. I went towards them, and was going to hide the body, but sirens were coming. I ran outside, and was going to get into the car, but a helicopter light was on. "Freeze, don't move!"