Chapter Thirty Six

‘Why not just kill her?’ The boy was dressed in grey today. His eyes were covered by his thick black fringe, yet I knew he was looking straight at me as he threw the apple in the air.

‘Because I’m not a murderer,’ I pushed myself off the ground.

‘Can you please stop calling me the boy in the painting or the boy. I do have a name you know. It’s Michael, and you did know that,’ he smirked.

He was right. This was not a boy. He was a young adult. ‘Michael it is.’

‘It’s not really you killing her. If it was, then you would be classified as a murderer,’ he walked towards me.

‘Now I’m confused. What do you mean that it is not me killing her? I held the scalpel, I held the tube and it was me who collected the blood.’

He tilted his head to the side. ‘True, but-‘

‘No, it was I who sliced her wrist. It was me,’ I pointed at myself, ‘who heard her scream. No no, who made her scream. I killed her and I enjoyed it!’

‘Did you really enjoy it?’

What sort of question was that? I dropped back down. Grass covered the floor and bright green fresh trees surrounded the place. I pulled my knees to my chest. I was smiling when I sliced her veins.

‘Did I really slice her veins?’

‘Oh yes. And it seemed as if you were enjoying it! But again I state, was it really you?’


‘It is time for you to sleep. Close your eyes, Kelly,’ he whispered in my ear.

I felt his hand slide down my face. My eyes closed.

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