The crimson color of blood. It’s so pretty. There’s nothing like it. The beautiful color runs down her face. I smile. “Your so weak. You made me this way. Who else could have made me into such-“

“P-please let me g-go,” she stutters. I shake my head and my smile grows.

“Not till I’m done playing. You wanted us to get along, but you started the fights. You wanted us to be friends again, but kept pushing me away. You blamed it all on me. Said it was my fault. Said I was always off with my friends. I was always there. I never hung out with my friends. It was your fault.” Her eyes start to close. “No!” I shout, and press my finger up against a wound on her forehead. She winces and opens her eyes again. “It’s not time yet.” Her skin is so pale. “Say hello to the camera,” I whisper in her ear.

“What?” she stutters.

“The camera right there.” I point out to the camera sitting a foot and a half away from her body on the wall. The beautiful color is coming out slowly, so I make a new, deeper cut. She gasps, and I, well, I laugh. Then it happens, she loses consciousness. I smack her across the face, but she makes no move. I lean in, but hear no breathing. Her skin has turned purplish. I look down at the bowl of blood under her and pick it up. The beautiful color sloshes around in the bowl. I look back up at the corpse. “You want us to be close again. Here you go.” I bring the bowl to my mouth, and drink every drop.