• The blood was warm as it trickled down her silk cheek.. The crimson color stained her skin. The blade shined softly in the dull light of the bathroom. The dripping of the facets could drive anyone mad. She smiled as she lifted the blade high above her head, red poison dripping from the tip soaking her chestnut hair.
    “No, please don’t! ZADA STO-!” The pleading voice was cut short by the steel slicing through their neck. Their body went limp and dropped like dead weight. With a soft chuckle and licked the knife slowly. She glanced around, the floor was covered with blood and four slaughtered bodies. Unexplainable euphoria pulsed through her body. As she started to walk from the bathroom someone started calling her name.
    “Zada…”
    “Who are you!”
    “Zaaaadaaaa…”
    “Go away!” She dropped the knife, holding her head tightly in her hands.
    “Zada!”

    Zada’s eyes fluttered open and was met with her French teacher staring at her from the front of the class room.
    “Are you ok, dear?” The class stared at her with looks of curiosity.
    “Um…yeah. May I go to the nurse?”
    “Only if you ask properly.”
    “Puis-je aller à l'infirmière” Zada asked perfectly.
    “Oui vous pouvez. Hurry back if possible.”
    With a nod Zada hurried from the classroom into the silent hallways. She hurried down the stair way to the nurses office. The halls were empty and her foot steps bounced off the wall. Her foot steps almost sounded like the dripping water from the facets…and the blood dripping from her finger tips onto the linoleum floor as she walked out of the bathroom. The hallways were dingy and shady, like any zombie movie ever created. A girlish giggle escaped her lips when she saw Her. Her stupid hair, her stupid smile, and her stupid fake laugh. Oh how Zada hated Her. All she wanted to do was watch that pretty head fall off the body and roll away. She took off in a full sprint at Her, the blade poised for killing. She jumped in the air and brought down the knife just in time for her dad to come home.

    With a start Zada woke up in her bed, drenched in sweat, and her palm bleeding from her nails digging into her skin.
    “Hey sweetie I’m home for the night. Lynn made us some dinner, so hurry down stairs.” Her fathers voice drifted up stairs into her room. Zada sighed and dragged herself out of her bed and to her washroom to freshen up, and to figure out how she got home.