• I was here to serve you. To love you. And now to say I'm worthless. Broken. Like a miss-treated doll. I'm your doll? Think again. This was what I was thinking on my way to his room. Heel-toeing every step to make sure not to make a sound. As I sing in my head stroking the blade of my jackknife, I walk into his room. Dance to the edge of his bed. I was here to serve you. I whisper in his ear as a gently take my knife out of my pocket. But now it's time to end you. I wake him up by singing the song my mother use to sing me to re-assure my safety. He opens his eyes. Staring straight at my face so he knows what he'd done was wrong. And as I carved my name into his forehead, I continued to sing. His screams went perfect to my melody. It was almost mystifying. I sighed after carving and gently slit his throat. I closed my eyes to enjoy the silence and dropped my knife. Dancing out of the room. But before I closed the door I whispered, Good night, my master.