Knife in my hand, I had only one thing to do. Everyone around was shouting at me to stop, to put the knife down. But they weren’t going to stop me. Looking around, all I saw were the faces of the people I hated, their faces shocked.
Over the noise and clamour of people, one person stood perfectly still, a gun in their hand. The crowd was moving in swathes, ants all trying to feebly attempt the same task. They were all going to fail.
They all knocked me down, covering me in their fear. None of them could knock the knife out of my hands, I was stuck to the one thing that could save me from them – the person standing between me and my dreams. I looked around, my head swimming, threatened by all the shouting. As though my head was underwater, I saw the one person on my side, their emotions mirroring my own.
They were the only one I had to listen to.
I stood up, brushing off the doubt that didn’t belong to me, the wishes of people long dead. There was only one person left in this room now. I looked in the mirror with a killing calm freezing my features. I walked out of the room, confidence radiating from me. Once more, the voices exploded within me. I only heard one of them.
Knife in my hand, I had only one thing left to do.