"The fear of dwelling apart from you is the fear that I'd rather kill you than to love you"

-Yandere

My love lends no hate. It is the love of killing my love ones.

"My sweet darling, where have you been?" I asked her but no response

I removed her clothes and wash the blood, hang it like a suicide and hit the boulevard.

"There are a lot of people! Wanna get rid of them?" I asked her but no response

So, I lift her head from my messenger bag and said these lovely words to her:

"My dearest, you look amazing without your skinny body. Bugs are coming out from your eyes, you're so beautiful!" Oh, how I love the happiness of my life.

Together, we shot every person in the boulevard. The smell of a fully grown flower deciphers the melancholic ambience of the red sea and the sweet lullaby of people dying cheering me to stop killing them. I'm like a celebrity no, I'm like a god being kneeled by my factions. Mother and father would be proud of how far I've gone. If only they were still alive...

"Son, No! Give it back to me son"

"YOU, BASTARD!"

"Please, don't hurt our son"

"Hand me the matches!"

"Here..." I lit the match and set our house on fire. Now it's beautiful. I made my home perfect.

Enough of relics! I have a dream to pursue, a dream to make this world beautiful.

"My sweet darling, am I beautiful? Why are you not answering me? Don't you love me anymore?"

I tried my best to make this world beautiful as me. Broken but still standing, Lit on fire and burning with perseverance, depressed but happy, Ugly but beautiful. But the beauty I struggled to make possible lies dead inside my bag.

"Am I that ugly? Fine. It's time to glow up. Let's all be beautiful!" and with a sheer heart, I triumphantly took my knife and slit my throat open.

Now, I'm a beautiful man...