[So this is one of the last {It Was Me?} continuations, as I have no motivation to continue it and yah so]

“The knife belongs to me.” Jacob chuckles as he thinks about the knife his henchmen had discarded or so he thought they had….

Jacob decided to watch the news, an unlikely event.He thought it might be a good plan to find ideas from other murders. He decides to watch the police channel, his j...

“The knife belongs to me,” she gasps aloud, her throat closing as her eyes roll in death.

The blade is in her stomach, blood like cranberry runs from her stab wound, more oozes from her mouth. She blinks hard, her mouth agape. Something pierces my back, sharp and cold against my warm flesh.

She grins wickedly, twisting the blade in my back. A scream escapes my lips, I twist over her and she slum...

The knife belongs to me

The one that’s been placed

Oh so strategically

Straight through my chest

Right through my spine

Only it’s really not mine

You drove it in deeper

You pushed it straight through

But what did I do?

I took responsibility

Because I believed in you

In your lies

And now

Now you can’t even look me in my eyes

It’s really a shame

How I would have done anything

What a fo...

“The knife belongs to me.” I glare at him and stand up. “I’ve spilt my own blood on this knife. It’s mine.”

He looks at me with a mix of confusion, terror, surprise, and more confusion in his bright blue eyes. He reaches his hand to it and I grip his hand, stopping him from even brushing the knife with his fingertips. His face turns pale and I think I might’ve broken his fingers.

Good. He deserv...

“The knife belongs to me…” I trailed off, stuck in a deep depression of my own making.

“What are you talking about?” Annalise asked.

“The knife belongs to me… it all makes sense now. The one that’s burrowed through my chest. The one that aches with every breath.”

“I’m not following Betty.” She looked at me quizzically. Like I was crazy. If she only knew my mind.

“I have loved him for as lon...

“The knife belongs to me,” I raised my voice to state clearly. The clashing voices echoing throughout the glorious ballroom all came to an abrupt lull, everyone’s enraged eyes falling to bask down on me. The hard sole of my chestnut suede oxfords struck the light birch flooring, the shaken crowd before me clearing a direct path across the room from my location.

“Good, you all know your place. If ...

The knife belongs to me

I stabbed myself in the back

For looking back

On what I lack

For tomorrows sake

I’ll lie in wake

As I’m paralyzed

And carbonized

The gun

It’s how it’s hung

I’m sorry this is how it had to be

I kick the chair

No right to repair

The knife belongs to me

How could I let you see

That’s all you’ve made me out to be

The shadow of the victim

You deserved it all along

The pa...

“The knife belongs to me.”

The voice was deep, calm on the outside, but she could feel the tension in it, hear the edge in his words, sea the tightness of his lips.

“I didn’t mean …”

“Drop it.”

“I …”

“Stop it. I mean it.”

The man in front of her was not the one she knew before. He was stoic, a dark expression on his face, muscle tensed.

She put the knife back on the table, almost ashamed without k...

The knife belongs to me. I crafted it many years ago. It’s handle was fashioned out of insecurities. One part “you’re ugly” fused with “no one likes you.” A solid foundation for the piece de resistance. The action part, a piercing blade. Mine is perfect. A sharp “you’ll never be good enough.” I’ve learned how to sharpen the edge over the years. It’s my favorite weapon against myself. If I’m ever i...

Me. The knife belongs to me

Big man. It belongs to me now

Me. I need it for my cookery course

Big man. So you cook

Me. Don’t tell me you ain’t seen bake off

Big man. Take the knife of me

Me. My name is chef

Big man. Ok chef I have a knife I want your expensive mobile.

Chef. This knife has a history

Big man. Your mobile or your life

Chef. Ok...