Her

Blood stains my hands, the crimson red liquid dripping from my fingers.

Panic is flooding through me, my heart pounding in my ears.

What happened?

The thought bumbles around my head, my memories a blur.

There is a girl lying before me, her body broken and bloody, fragile against the concrete.

I think I killed her.

Shuddering, I kneel beside her, my bloodied fingers reaching for her shoulder.

Her pale face stares up at me, agape with fear as I stumble backwards.

That’s me.

I look down at my hands once again, glittering like a thousand rubies.

In my grip is a knife, thick and strong.

I think I killed myself.