She Who Says.
“I Love You.” With a soft smile on her lips towards you. She turned around and raised an object in her hand before she placed it down once more.
The blood is on her hands.
She was the most beautiful girl you would ever see. Her laughter could soften any man living in the world. Her smiles could brighten even the darkest of days. She was the most beautiful girl you would ever see.
The corpse is in her hands as she stares at it, devoid of any emotion.
She was empathetic. A golden soul gluing everyone together. A kind person who would love you for what you are. Altruistic to the extent she'd help you even if you despise yourself too much to become blind to anything. She was empathetic.
Her blue eyes dull and broken.
She was warm. She will bring you the warmth in which you felt devoid of. She will tell you the kind words you wish to hear most. She will help you fix yourself. The woman who will never make you feel as if you're alone. She was warm.
She stabbed it again with no sheer amount of mercy nor guilt.
She is a beautiful person. She is beautiful. She will never do anything to hurt you.
So, trust her.
“Trust me.” She smiled, no guilt present for the people whom she killed. There was only obsession, a twisted love only sorted for you.
You who reads this.
“I love you.” She says, she goes closer as she bring the knife to her cheek, wounding it deeply. “And you'll love me too, right.” She states, losing the threads of sanity, a ravelled wad meant for you.
You who reads this.
You who reads this.
She's behind you.