Brevity, Quill


The cries wake me up in the middle of the night. Painful and morbid, these cries rake up a mysterious past. The bloody floor and blue eyes,staring at the knife in my hand. I try to brush off the accusing eyes, try to reason with myself, justify my actions. What force drove me to murder can’t be explained but those cries drive me to insanity. The cries of innocence pleading for mercy. The cries of a wounded girl stabbed by betrayal. I wake up in the middle of the night and sit still, waiting for redemption to come my way.

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