#WritcoStoryChallenge
I blinked as I regained consciousness. I had hit my head hard, or had someone hit me? Then I realised I was holding a bloody knife in my hand.


I blinked as I regained consciousness. I had hit my head hard, or had someone hit me? The world around me was blurry, and a sharp pain pierced through my temple. As I struggled to sit up, my hand instinctively went to my head, but it wasn't my head that caught my attention. It was the bloody knife clutched in my hand.


My mind racing, I stared at the knife in horror. Whose blood was this? What had happened? Memories began to flood back, fragmented and disjointed.


A party. Friends laughing. Music blasting. And then...an argument. Raised voices. A face twisted in anger. Emily's face.


No, it couldn't be.


I scrambled to my feet, surveying my surroundings. I was in my own apartment, but it was in disarray. Furniture overturned, glass shattered. And on the floor, a figure lay motionless.


Emily.


My heart sank, and the knife slipped from my grasp. I stumbled backward, collapsing onto the couch. What had I done?


Panic set in as I called 911, my voice shaking. "I need help...I think I hurt someone."


The operator's calm voice guided me through the next few minutes, but my mind was elsewhere. Flashes of the argument replayed in my mind. Emily's words, my responses. The rage that had built up.


When the police arrived, I was catatonic. They took me away, the knife still clutched in my hand.


The days that followed blurred together – questioning, lawyers, and tears. The truth slowly...