They

THEY told me to kill her. To get rid of her. THEY said that she was evil and mean. Deceiving and sinful. THEY handed me the knife of guilt to do the job. Stab her in the back THEY all cried in anger. I held the knife to her throat ready to murder her. I was ready to take her life and make it mine. Letting her be the sacrificial lamb. I wanted to smother her and never see her again. I was not the angel of death but rather the Angel of hope. The one who would deliver her into heaven. For it was I or the mob who would kill her. I her friend wanted to be the one to get rid of the pain. THEY hated her not I. I loved her; she was a friend a sister. Her rebellious sprit they condemn and I embraced. THEY shoved this jewel to the ground, humiliated her and stole her innocence. I was not a friend was I? I stood in the background and let her feel the pain. I was Judas, selling her soul for my gain. Yet in the end it did not matter. As I held the knife to her throat…she flew away. Becoming an angel…free and finally happy. She flew away from the earth who hated her. Set her soul free…and I lost my friend. The girl who ran with such innocence is gone! And who is to blame? Why it is I who is to blame. For she was I. A part of my soul. Her innocence and charm I lost long…when I wanted to kill that part of me. So I have survived callused, mean deceitful and angry. To survive I had to kill her. World you lost