• I used to call this poor girl my friend.
    Till one day I learned I didn't like her at all.
    She pretended to be my friend,
    I just pretended to be nice to her.

    But I'm sick of this skinny little wretch
    that pleaged my life.
    And now I stand in front of her,
    with knife in hand.

    She is a sleep right now,
    wrists and ankles chained
    to the damp wall.
    I can't wait till she wakes up.

    I hear a murmur of a name
    from her sleepy lips.
    It's a name I know too well.
    The name of my boyfriend.

    Sudden rage swells within me.
    She had let him go. Left him be
    with a broken heart.
    I had rescued him and cared for him.

    You'd think that after this long
    she'd move on since she let him go.
    It would have been different
    if he had left her.

    She suddenly jerks awake.
    I watch and laugh
    as panic shows within her eyes.
    Not so tough now is she.

    She always bragged about how well
    she fights. I never seen it. For all I
    know she's all talk and no show.
    Another reason I want her dead.

    I ready my knife as she begins to struggle.
    I tell her she should have seen this comming.
    There was a line waiting to see her die.
    I was just lucky enough to be the first.

    I want it slow and painful
    but the better half of me wants
    it to be swift and painless.
    Curse my good nature.

    She begins to scream and I slash
    at her cheek. Startled.
    She quiets.
    I just shake with anger.

    My childhood friend would be
    proud of me.
    She always wanted to do this.
    Now she gets to hear my good deed.

    "You won't get away with this!"
    She cries.
    "Oh really?" I ask and used the
    flat part of the knife to raise her chin.

    "Who's going to care?"
    "My family..."
    "The family that left you?"
    She begins to swear at me.

    I barely nik the side of her neck,
    not enough to cause real damage.
    "Better watch what you say.
    The more you speak the worse it gets."

    I don't want to do this.
    The smell of blood makes me ill.
    But she did this to me. I must
    make sure she never does it again.

    "Any last words?" I ask. The common question
    to ask before you kill someone.
    "I thought you were my friend."
    She cries.

    "I thought I could trust you."
    I reply. "I thought you didn't like
    him anymore. I figured you'd never
    have feelings for him anymore."

    "... But now. Almost a year has
    passed. And now you want him back?"
    I lean forward to her. "Well guess what?
    This is only a fraction of your punishment."

    I raise my knife and slash her face to
    where only God to tell what she used to be.
    I jab the tiny blade through her heart...
    and watch her die and bleed.