Stupid martin!
My legs do their job ones again, they do what they do best
Run!
I run back to the kitchen my heart pounding like a war drum, taking a bowl of water, from the wooden bowls meticulously arranged in a rack, what’s the use of a spiral bowl, eww
I fill it with warm water, running back to the living room, blood pooling on the white chair, she isn’t doing much about it, just staring at glass stabbed hands, with a Chiffon clothes tied around it, how silly can she be, for a middle aged woman.
“ give me your hands” I say to her in the calmest most anxious tone ever, she shoots deadly glared at me, growling deeply, “ hey I can’t let you face this pain, so kill me after this” I yank her hands, a little bit hard, I expected her to show some resistance but she gives me her hand.
