She stood immobile in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the corpse at her feet. An eerie chill seemed to have taken over the place, all feeling gelid but for the warmth of the blood dripping from her hands. She hadn't wanted to kill her. Well, she did think about killing her many times. She had run through her mind one possible scenario after the other, recreating herself with the thought of finally putting an end to her life. But she certainly wasn't intending on doing it right now. Not like this at least, without any plan whatsoever.
Alyssa looked at her hands, still holding the kitchen knife. No matter where she looked at, everything was covered in blood. the world suddenly seemed to be all tainted in red, all but her paling face as she lied on the floor, dying. And she had always been so proud of her fair skin.
She wriggled weakly on the floor, making her first notice that she was still alive. She seemed to be trying really hard to say something. She examined her wounds and knew there was no way she was going to make it, she knew also that it wasn't going to be a quick and smooth death, at all. For a moment she felt herself getting slightly dizzy. She took in a deep sight, trying to compose herself.
What know? For once, she had no plan at all. She felt lost. She really hadn't intended on killing her. But well, not that it mattered anymore.
She was still struggling on the floor, making some kind of gurgled noises, trying to speak. Alyssa, despite her dire situation, smiled. She really was a hard nut to crack, the old bitch. She was fully aware that it would take her a long, a painfully long time for her to die. She could have put her out of her misery, but she didn't even entertain that possibility. She merely threw away the knife, rubbed her blood-stained hands against her even more blood-stained dress, straightened her back and walked away in a fast but composed stride. “Goodbye mother”, could a calm if sarcasm-loaded voice be heard. And then... only the sounds of death were left.