I whimpered as I finally realized what I had done. I-I killed people. Whimpering, I pinched my arm, hoping desperately that it was all a dream. Sharp pain shot up my arm. It wasn't a dream. This was reality.

Staring at the restaurant in front of me, I couldn't help but stare in horror at all the dead bodies. Just a moment ago, there were happily chatting away, drinking hot coffee or tea and eating homemade pasta. There was at least 35 people. Not a single thing moved. Had I killed all of them? I felt my hands tighten around something. I glanced down, my eyes widening. In my left hand, held a gun. A gun with no bullets. And in the right, held a bloody butter knife. It didn't take long as I pieced together all the pieces.

The gun was behind the counter. The owner had kept it, just in case. He had told all the staff where the location was, he trusted all of us enough to know that we won't use the gun unless we had too. I relaxed my grip as the gun and knife fell to the ground, with a loud chatter. For the butter knife, someone requested one for their bread. I had gotten it when it happened. When I was filled with uncontrollable rage.

My vision blurred as tears pricked my eyes. Trembles ran down and up my body as I surveyed the damage. I had a death grip on the counter, my knuckles were going white. I didn't trust myself to not do any more damage. The whole room was filled with blood and bodies. I dry heaved at the sight. I could only vaguely remember what I had done. So many bodies.

Staring at my hands, I choked back a sob as I saw blood stained hands. Hands that killed mercilessly. What had I done? I killed all these people. But why? I just felt so angry and resentful at everyone. And I just killed them. Killed them without a second thought. I felt myself freeze, would I do this again? W-Would I kill more people? I stumbled backwards, away from the counter. I screamed as I tripped and fell against the shelf. Dull pain shot up my head as I banged it against the shelf which was filled coffee and tea. Boxes of tea and coffee fell to the ground, loose leaf tea spilling over the floor. Fear froze me as I realized that I had tripped over an arm. Forcing my eyes from the bleeding stump, I forced myself to focus on the shelf. My fingers brushed against my throbbing scalp, as I massaged the tender spot. It was going to leave a lump and a headache. My eyes wandered towards the bleeding stump again. My hands automatically went to my mouth as I heaved, vomit coated my hands. Feeling even miserable, I looked around for the washroom.

Just look for the washroom, Charlotte. I hastily flicked off vomit off my hands as I tried to collect myself. I sifted a gasp as I finally saw myself in the mirror. I looked like shit. I was covered in patches of dried blood, minor scrapes and cuts over exposed parts of my body. Everything ached, but I didn't have any major wounds. How did I managed to get out not hurt? Splatters of blood were covering my face. Turning to the sink, I sighed in relief as I watched the water run over my fingers. I grimaced as I saw the vomit swirl into the drain. I ran my hair with wet fingers, I stared in horror as my fingers came out bloody.

"There was blood in my hair? How?" I sputtered. Rinsing off the blood. I leaned toward and stared at myself in the mirror. Blinking brown eyes stared back at me. My brown hair was streaked with blood, the tips crusted together in lumps, tickling my collarbones.

"If my mother could see me." I muttered humorlessly. I froze, what if she was also affected by all this? I patted down my jeans and blouse, or what was left of it. I curse under my breath as I searched myself again.

Where was my god damn phone?

Cautiously, I peeked out from the bathroom, nothing in sight. I carefully moved, as I looked for my phone. Groaning, I ran a hand through the mess I called hair. I paused as I saw a smartphone lying on the ground. I'm sure the owner won't mind…

I bit the inside of my lip as I took the phone gingerly. I needed to know if the people I loved were alive. It didn't look it was going to blow up or anything. I was honestly shocked that I managed to find another phone, almost everyone had a Valentine SIM card. I didn't, but that was because I hadn't had the time. Dialing the number I knew by heart, my heart pounded, would she answer?

"Hello?" A groggy voice spoke.

"Mum." I sighed in relief.

"Charlotte?" She groaned. "It's bloody 2 in the morning here."

"You're alive." I murmured.

"Speak up! I can barely hear you." She grumbled.

I laughed for what seemed like in forever. Even in times like this, she still complains.

"Okay." I spoke warmly. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay. Why won't I be?" She sighed.

I froze, she didn't know. Then, was this just me? Was I the only one affected?

"I-I'm going to hang up, okay?" I stammered.

"Why?" She asked curiously.

"I need to sort some things first." I told her shakily.

"Like how I managed to kill 35 people." I added silently.

"Alright." She huffed.

"Bye mum. Love you." I said softly.

"Love you too." She replied as she hung up.

The phone slipped from my hands, hitting the ground with a solid thump. I didn't need to check if the screen was cracked or not.

What was I going to do now? I thought helplessly as I stared at all the bodies surrounding me.


Thanks for reading :D

I'm not 100% if I'm going to continue this or not.

This can be read as a stand alone being someone's perspective during D-Day.

Or I can continue it, Charlotte being one of the candidate's for Arthur.

If you would like for me to continue, please review, follow and favorite~