I Didn't Know

I should have known it was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop me. 

I plunged the knife into his heart, over and over again, his blood spraying over my face.

I thought of how he did this to my daughter.

My son.

My wife.

I envisioned their lifeless bodies in a pool of blood. He was long dead, it didn’t matter I killed him. I did it for a good reason. I didn’t stop. I liked the sound of the blade sinking into his skin.

I didn’t care if I spent the rest of my life in jail. This demon deserved it. When I finally had the urge to stop I looked down in my hands covered in blood.

My hands were shaking. My arms were exhausted. I felt something fall down my cheek. Was it the blood of the man that killed my family and made me watch, or was it a tear? I would never know. My arms were too exhausted to figure it out. I felt more and more and more.

My vision blurred and the drops fell on my hand, like a week ago, or was it the night before. While I watched a man I didn’t know rip the heart out of my one true love.

I was crying, but not of sadness. With relief, and maybe even happiness. I crumpled to the ground, laughing while I heard sirens and a knock on the door, then the door caved in.

People came in.

I didn’t care.

I felt myself get picked up, the blood on my hands was starting to dry,

I didn’t care.

The man who killed my family is dead. He will never do what he did to my family ever again.

I reached for the knife to stab him. One. More. Time. I felt pain go up my spine, electricity making me numb. I have felt like this before.

My mind raced, then black