That One Bloody Day

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Whhhyyyyyyyyyyy................. is the only thing on television right now freaking Barney? I can feel my brains rotting from all this family friendly fluff.......

*knock knock* (a/n don't even try hiding, Onces, I see you there.)

"COMING!" Who tf is in front of my door at this unholy hour?

And there you stood, covered head to toe in your victim's blood.

A few drops sliding down your hair and plopping onto my pavement, staining it with a deep crimson red, soon to be washed off by the rain.

You must have done a number on him or her that time, to this day I still don't know how you kill them.

"May I borrow a clean rag, ma'am?" You asked, with death filling your eyes to the brim, yet staying as polite as one can get.

"Bitch, you don't need just a rag, you need an entire shower! Get in here now!" I yell at you, without a care in the world for my own clothes or safety, I drag your bloody wrist inside my house, getting ready to douse you in soap and water.




And that's how our dysfunctional, bloody, yet beautiful relationship started

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