I'm not sorry.
You think I'm disgusting. Only the most wretched person would kill another.
Maybe that's true.
I killed him. I won't deny that.
You say he did nothing to me. That he didn't deserve it.
That isn't true.
You lived with him, and somehow never saw what a disgusting pig he was. I did. You did nothing to help me. You didn't care. Well, I don't care either. I don't care about you or him. I never did.
So say what you like. Hurl your pathetic insults at me.
I killed him. I slit his throat. I'm proud. I'm not sorry.
And while you spend your days pretending to grieve, I will be sitting in a cell. Waiting for the day they release me.
I don't care at all. He deserved it.
It was worth it, to watch his blood pour out, to destroy him, to watch him die.
I liked it. I don't regret a thing.
