Shattered within my broken mind. I hide behind my blank stare and fool them into thinking I'm one of them. Hanging my head down as they approach; to disguise my hatred. 


Who is the fool now?


My hatred is a fire that has burned deep inside of me for longer than I could tell you. Already I attempt to quell my shaking hands as under my robe I hold a sickle. 


Waiting. . . 
Waiting. . .
Wanting to spill blood.


Rising at last when the nun moves within reach.
I strike with deadly aim and as she stares up at me with a surprised glance within her slowly fading eyes.
I smile.