"I never knew that the thrill of killing was so addictive, like a drug. Harmless to you, but not your victim. The rush was something I have never felt before, the instant feeling of relief, the anchor lifting off my shoulders. 

I delivered the coldest dish, the most miraculous, the most tedious.... the most wanted; Revenge.

The knife was easy to clean, the crimson blood dissolving into pink, then into clear, down the drain, it was like a bloody whirlpool, a blooming rose, a rising regret.

But what does regret matter when you have other things to do? Doctor?" The young teen looked up, smiling as she traced her hand along the padded wall of her cell, glancing at the bullet proof glass that lead to the other room.

"The patient has been here for only two days, her mental state is hanging by a thread, she speaks of her friends, they told her to do this, they told her that it would be okay." The woman folded her hands on the table and leaned closer to the man across from her. 

"The thing that concerns me is the fact that there is no body to be found."