“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.