She bore witness to his murder, a mute observer. Half wanting to stop her from killing the man who was once the love of her life, half-rejoicing, for she was finally free. Free from his menace, from being dragged around like a puppet, free from being crushed like a dead flower everyday. The purple bruises on his body now matched hers. The murderess had made sure he paid back for his sins.
She didn’t know if she should curse or thank the murderess, who now stood with blood all over her hands, a few red splashes on her pale face, her dark eyes staring devilishly back at her. The stranger in the mirror gave a wicked grin.
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