She woke up from her bed, her head feeling like spaghetti and she groaned as she sat up. Was that all a dream? She wondered. Then she felt the weight of the dagger in her right hand and she held it tight. She checked her phone: ten minutes to midnight and she swore as she jumped off the bed.
She didn’t have to think about who she was going to sacrifice, who she was going to kill. There was no useless monologue needed. Her father was an abusive bastard and he deserved to die, simple. There was nothing else to it. It was a simple choice: her father dead for her mother alive.
It was easy.
She gripped the knife tight before she opened her door.
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