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She screamed over and over and over again. She wouldn't shut up. She wouldn't make quiet. She wouldn't stop.

So I made her.

I grabbed that knife and I pricked myself. When I saw the dark blood off the point of that dull knife, and the pressure it took to get it out, I knew I was going to be a happy man. Tomorrow night, I said to myself. and I did.

Next night I saw her come home and I hid in the shadows of the kitchen. She started that god forsaken screaming again, and as she came into the kitchen, oh, I snapped. I stood up and I screamed back at her. I pinned her to the oven and I stabbed her, all while yelling all of my heartache out. Once her light blue suit was stained forever a deep red, was I then satisfied. oh, I felt the relief flow over like the gods gave me a good drug.

I feel on the floor, grabbed some of her blood with my hands off the kitchen floor, and drank it. it tasted so metallic and so sweetly satisfying.

I closed my eyes and drifted into a ever-ending sleep I never did wake up from....

emo Sorry, I really wanted to write something. sweatdrop