“When I was younger, people always told me I would be a heartbreaker. I don’t think this is what they meant.” I say holding the knife above her heart

The next thing I know, she's gone.

My enemy. Gone.

“Finally, that old hag is gone” I whisper to myself

Gone. Dead. Forever.

Now that she's gone, I can get back to my normal life.

What do I do again?

What do before her?

What are my hobbies?

I don't know,

I don't know.

I don't know?

Why don't I know?

I should know.

I should know myself,

Yet I don't,

Why?

I don't know myself.

I have never known myself.

Why?

I don't know.