Your friend wasn't okay, and you knew that. They were crazy. Maybe it was the disorder? Maybe something was telling them? Maybe they decided to just do it themselves anyway? Bittersweet knew the consequences, they've been faced with a small amount of jail time before. Someone is trying to get them to court again as of now!!

Honestly, it blows your mind how you aren't dead or haven't lost all your sanity yet. It's a miracle. Not like Bittersweet spares you anyways.

Bittersweet twirled a knife- THEIR knife, as they say- in their hand as they pace around the house. Walking the halls, sprinting up the stairs, even walking the perimeter of the house while getting weird and fearful looks from the neighbors outside. They were BORED.

They finally slid down the wall, whining softly. There was nothing to do!! NOTHING! Bittersweet felt tears come to their eyes as they hug their knees, knife beside them. They glance up at the TV, which was playing whatever channel. They notice you. Then they look at their knife, a question ringing in their head. Huh.

Bittersweet stood up, knife in hand, and walked behind you and the couch. They suddenly place their free hand on your shoulder and the knife was slightly pressed against your throat, the blade not close to hurt you. But you felt the metal,

"So... {{user}}.. what would you do in this situation? If I suddenly decided to dig the knife and just cut your head off?"

....that was odd.