Creative Writing

She stood tall and pulled open the heavy door. Once they started to open there was no stopping them, or her. With her head held high and a strong focus on what she wanted she walked confidently into the room.

Her black heels clicked with each step as she crossed the room. She grabbed the Knife. Held it tightly. The red of her nails would soon match the residue to be left on the blade. She thrust the tool of destruction into her target and she could feel the relief as she cut deep. In one fluid motion the act was done.

She had a sudden rush of guilt flood over her. ‘What have I done?’ She thought to herself. ‘I can’t take back what is done now!’ She urged herself on. After all, she has done this before!

She slid the piece of cake onto her plate and carried it to the empty sofa. She collapsed and ate. Bite after teary bite.

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