I look down at the knife in my hand. It is so sharp that if I clench it with minimal pressure, my hand will bleed profusely.

Well, what did I expect? I had asked the man at the black market for the most pointed and fine carving knife. Enough to slice through flesh within seconds. The finest.

The day before the big day I fell into a slumber so deep it felt real.

I am slouching in my usual chair at school my head on the table; Lauren comes over and pulls my greasy brown hair.

The pain is excruciating but I go through this everyday so shouldn’t I be immune to the pain? Well, I guess not.

She whispers,”go get a life you dustbin and by the way I dumped your birthday gift from Sam in the boy’s toilet. Go get it!” I know she is saying the same insensitive crap but this slur makes my blood boil. Yet I stay silent and keep my shit to myself.

At lunch, I go to my locker to get my food. As soon as I open it- my stomach clenches. There is blood all over the interior and on my food. A note is stuck to my uneaten sandwich. It reads: Hope you enjoy the period blood that I sampled from the toilet seats-L.

I feel so angry but my body lets me down and backs down by closing the door of my locker; going to the nurse to fake a bad stomach ache. I go home but I feel overwhelmingly angry and something shifts within me. I go to bed and try to forget my degradation.

I wake up and the slasher knife is beside me. It was just a dream. I feign the urge to go and hug the knife.My mind tells me I will have a major injury that will stop me from doing the thing I had planned for a decade.

I dress in a floral dress knowing that the blood spats of my victim will complement the yellow undertones perfectly. Maybe I can wear it out someday to commemorate the big day.

I walk to my favourite local coffee shop and have a heavily creamed cappuccino to fill my aching stomach. I then go to my parents house and drop by to have a little lunch. I hug them tightly and kiss them goodbye.

Excitement builds up inside me. I drive to Sam’s house. I park under a large oak tree. The only way of knowing the location was to creep behind him for three weeks to the point I had memorised his routine. I double check if I have my slaying buddy in my handbag. Yes! It is in there and ready for use.

I wait until darkness is upon us. When you want something bad, you don’t get tired. I had gone through the pain of bullying for my entire time at school and all the misery was down to Lauren. She couldn’t leave me alone so why does she deserve to live? She doesn’t.

I get into his home by climbing into his bedroom window. The perks of being a slim, short and underdeveloped woman. I stand over him and his partner. Turns out, he ended up with Lauren. They are sleeping in the king size bed unaware of my demonic presence.

I pull out the knife; pounce at Sam- slashing his throat. He had to die. For decoration. A medal for a double homicide. Also this will make it an obvious death sentence.

The fresh blood splats beautifully on my dress- almost as if a designer put it there. He hadn’t the time to react so Lauren doesn’t know her husband is beside her: dead.

I walk around the bed buying her time to react and run out the room. Oh, I remembered she is in deep sleep. Innocent and vulnerable. I make sure to torture her.

The blade slits her left hand. She is instantly awake; her face distorted in agony. The blood leaks onto her shimmery diamond wedding ring. Her eyes fearful and pleading. I cut her ring finger so it comes off the hand. I smile.

Her screams are music to my ears. I stab her in the breast bone and simultaneously pull out the knife and insert it into her heart. She bleeds to death before me.

I wait for weeks until the authorities come to look for the victims. The bodies rot so horribly yet I still sit beside them- satisfied.

I know that murder is punishable by death and so I will die. But it’s worth it when it’s your only wish was to kill.

**

Five years later:

I am standing on the podium. In my country, murder is rewarded with death. The noose is around my neck but I laugh instead of crying. Lauren is in my head. Her dead body gives me the utmost happiness. It’s getting tighter around my neck and still I laugh maniacally.