quirkyrandomchika

I feel the hatred boil up inside me, just like an overflowing pot. I scream, and lash out. The water drips out and down the side of the cooking utensil. Then I smell it. The metallic liquid, dripping to the floor, finally free of the tight and cramped place known to man as "The Human Body". I scream obscenities, one after another. The boilers on the stove sizzle loudly, like an alarm. The loud thump as the corpse hits the floor does not satisfy me, even though I thought it would. ...The pot falls off the stove and scalds the person nearby, burning that girl lightly, the wound soon to heal. At least, that's the way I wish it