• The smell of blood gave me a twitch. I couldn’t see. I was blinded by my own wet, salty tears. The knife seemed to fall forever. Falling and falling until finally it hit the ground, making a loud noise that echoed through the room. My body felt like it was going to fall over and be left there to rot. Still I stood there. God knows I deserved to rot. Suddenly, a bright light of red and blue entered the room through the window. My hair flipped as I sharply turned my head to look at the lights. It was blurry. As I squinted, I could see shapes through the window. Men. Men in uniform.

    I wanted to stand there. I wanted to get caught. I wanted to get punished for my sin. But my legs had a mind of their own. One step back, two step back. My eyes wide open in fear. My body turned. I could still see the lights in the corner of my eye as my legs broke into a run and headed towards the back door. My arms reached out at the handle. Locked. My eyes then gazed at a window as I then reached for it also. Locked. It was no use. I was sure there was no way out. I shook the door, making a silent scream under my breath. My muscles weakened as I leaned against the glass and slid to the ground. My bare, bloody feet felt cold in the moonlight. Tears sliding down my face. All hope of escaping seemed dim. As if the world had no colour.

    I heard footsteps. They were pacing slowly, towards the back door. My legs moved into panic mode. I squirmed backwards, sliding my bloody dress along with me. I crawled and hid behind a couch. I sat there. My arms wrapped around my legs in a tight grip. My chin placed in between my knees. I was quivering. Fear seemed irrelevant at this moment, but still I felt it. Light appeared on a wall in front of me. A part of me wished it was the sun, coming to wake me up from a dream. However, I was wrong. It wasn’t the sun. It was a flashlight. Someone was holding a flashlight and searching the room. My body ball became tighter. I gulped and wiped a tear off my cheek with my knee.

    There was a door open next to the couch. I slowly crouched down and crawled into the room. There was a window. An open window. My bloody hands made red prints on the carpet as I stood up. I poked my head out of the window. There was no one in sight. Silence. Dead silence. Throwing one leg over the side, the other foot lifted off the ground. I jumped. Landed safely. Free. But the guilt was not yet gone as I ran. The guilt of murder will come back to haunt me. I knew that for sure.