I starred at the knife in my hand. And then at the dead body in front of me. I killed him. I killed him. I was free. I was no longer a captive. No longer trapped in this hell. I looked at the scars that covered every inch of my body. Each one with a unique story. Some I had forgotten, some plastered in my mind and no matter how much I tried, I couldn't get them out. These scars said how much I had endured over the years. But what it didn't say was how tired I had gotten.
I couldn't breathe. Leaning against the wall I thought of all the things this person had taken away from me. My world, my dreams, my happiness, my soul. He had left me with nothing. Everything I had, everything I was- this man had snatched away. All this time I had been a prisoner- a prisoner chained to hell. I didn't have the strength to fight anymore. I couldn't take it. So I did what had seemed like the only way out.
I killed Life. It couldn't hurt me anymore. I was free from the pain, the tears, the emptiness. I was free from the shackles. Before closing my eyes, I smiled one last time thinking, "I killed Life."