2.

It hurts but I keep on looking back instinctively. It gives no result because something is blocking me. Why was I holding a knife that killed Ann? Why did I run away? Why can't I feel remorse? Why am I me??

Louis Vuitton suit was bathed in blood. My make up tainted my dirty face. My eyes became overly red. My hair messy, as always.

How the fuck did my life get fucked up?

Ann was smiling a while ago. We planned our futures. We were about to kiss. We were about to officialize. But now, I am alone...

*Phone Call*

[you....bitch... You killed my wife. You fucking killed my wife. I, John, swear to find you and when I do; I won't deliver you to the police; No, no ,no. I will find you and fucking fuck you till you die of torture. I will---]

Not the first time someone is menacing me. I shouldn't mind---

*Phone call*

[Pen? It's Faze. Are you okay?.....Look! Don't reply. I'm sure you must be feeling out of the world right now. It's all my fault. I should have warned you about the DRUG. If you want answers, WE will be waiting for you at THE SCHOOL.]

Faze.

Faze.

Faze..

I know Faze. She is...