Literature
The Game edited
She sat there in the corner of the dark kitchen rocking back and forth, with her pale, hour-glass body curled up into a ball. Her long, silky, ebony hair hung down her arched back, and her bright blue eyes were staring at her boyfriend's mangled body. It was surrounded by a puddle of blood that had poured out from the stab wound in his chest. The blood was dry and had stained the marble floor. She had obviously been sitting there for a while.
"It's not my fault," She whispered over and over, trying to convince herself that it was self-defence. But her boyfriend's lifeless green eyes that stared back at her said otherwise.
She didn't know ho