Blame the Knife

          It was dark. It was bizarre. I was not at home. Standing at the expanse of the unknown, I could hear heavy footsteps executing the Doppler Effect. I was overwhelmed upon thinking my loneliness won't last. I was wrong. 

       As a strange silhouette drew nearer, I could make out the knife in his right hand. Strange knife. The odd looking knife's blade was shaped as though it were a curved snake desperate to attack. Even from afar, I can visualize the intricate ancient symbols embossed on the knife's handle. The selfish moon shed minimal light to the knife enough to strike it back to my lost eyes. I saw a staring eye at the very tip of the knife. It pronounced every excruciating pain I might endure in this encounter. As the man stepped nearer, the sharpness of the knife's edge gradually erased every bit of happiness. All of a sudden, it made me choke in terror. 

         Then, blackness came. I felt the the the knife's point land on my chest. The knife's point felt like tons of distresses landing on me at once. As the knife went deeper, the knife's blade felt like bombs which then exploded after I released my unheard screams. All ended here. It was sad. Every mark of my existence vanished while the damned knife pursues others.