I didn’t mean to kill him. He was to blame not me. If he would’ve stayed back he would’ve been alive still. I told him to stay back. I told him to go away. “You can’t keep pushing me away Teresa! I’m here for you!” Was what he told me, years in his eyes. The knife was pressing on my hip, it seemed to be pulsing for me to grab it. He kept on walking towards me and I kept on backing up. “I-I-I love you Tess, please don’t push me away” tears were running down his perfect face. They say fear is your number one enemy. Maybe that is why I did it. Maybe that is why when I was walking backwards and hit the wall that I grabbed the knife under my shirt. Maybe that why when he was so close to me I can smell his cologne, that I took it out of the waist of my pants. Maybe that’s why when he listed my chin and kissed me I stabbed him. Right in the stomach. His voice was still in my mind, “Tess, help me...” until he left. I was afraid. I wasn’t afraid of what he might do to me, I was afraid of what I might do to him. And no matter how much I loved him or how much he told me I was wrong about myself, I guess I really was right. I guess I really am a bad person.