With my dyed red hands

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???'s POV:

I looked out the window and watched the large flames in gulf the home I had lived by for 6 years. I cracked a smile as the large flames turned to ashes with small pieces of firey wood. Watching the beautiful orangey reddish tones burn the place to the ground, I picked up the cracked photo frame that stood on the window sill.  "All good things come to an end," I whispered above the crackling fire, sniffing the burning wood and brick. "Its looks like bad ones do, too." I exclaimed, sliding the window open and staring at the fire below. I took one last look at the photo before tossing it, watching it tumble to the ground before disappearing into the smokey air as a pile of cinder and ash. The loud sounds of alarms rung throughout my ear drums as the girl illuminated the air, and shone in my glossy eyes. The visual of the incident stung my brain, but I kept watching. It was as if I regretted it, but not today, not now, not ever. I meant to cause this eruption of flames, and I wouldn't take it back. I wouldn't. The fire was beautiful, the flames delicately dancing around spreading light to burn through the air. The fire was a host of golden colors, flowing in the air and with the breeze. It spread quickly, like jam, and made the luscious noise I loved to hear, except this time it was different. The empowerment I got from that small fire made me feel alive, even though my friend turned enemy could be dead. Again, I meant to do this, I would have never accidentally set a place like this one on fire. My world came crashing down with that thought of betrayal given to me by her, and now her's did. Now she felt how I did. The eerie wind coiled around the broken glass and run down pieces if home with the faint sound if birds following. It was peaceful, especially for someone like me. Someone who could never escape the iron grip of desire. My sheet black curtains flowed around the room as the wind slowly finished blowing out the fire. The night grew cold and silent, only for that silence to be shattered by the loud and Painful scream of Sharon Needles. Everything about life changed this year. Even the most familiar things felt like a breath of fresh air, and not the kind ablaze like the air around me. I slowly raised my hands to pull my window down and shut it when the rustling sound if creatures in the near by woods became louder, and the sobs if Sharon became more noticeable. I lowered my hands and looked at the scene once more. I love torture. That's why I slowly put everyone through it. That's why I started this. That's why I won't end it. I can't. I don't know how to control the demon that had slowly released its self into me. My own self was my worst enemy, and I was fine with that. I killed off everyone who's wronged me. One after another, one after another, one after another, and I wasn't going to stop. I couldn't, I wouldnt, and I won't. I love temporary sin. At least, for me it hadn't been temporary. It stayed with me forever. I walked to my front porch and looked at every home near me, before staring at the constellation in the night sky of a large dagger like object. I continued looking at it before pulling a knife out of my pocket and reaching my hand up, towards the stars. The knives were identical. Perfect.



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