I still to this day don’t know exactly what happened. Or I do, I just refuse to admit it.

What I do remember is this:

I walked in. He was drunk. I got mad. He got madder. He tried to hit me. I hit him back. The next thing I remember, I was standing over him, covered in blood. The knife in my hand after the deed was done. I don’t think the cops have found all of him. Yet.