They stitched me up. They were after me, they wanted me locked up and they succeeded. They call me mental ‘ill’. I am perfectly fine. I am a girl, they think I will, conform, be that innocent figure of a woman who is weak and in need of a man. I am stronger than them – why shouldn’t I fight them?

            It all started when I came home from some bar I was working at at the time. I came out, my bag clutched tightly under my arm; I got a lot of tips that night. The city lights were blazing, even late at night, the sound of cars audible and comforting. You never felt alone in New York.  The streets were littered with flyers, and I think I saw a rat by the side of the road, near the gutter, nibbling at the something. I turned the corner, normally I would hail for a cab, but I decided against it. I wanted the walk. Some called me crazy, if they believed my story, others said I was ‘looking for trouble’.

            Although the city was busy, it would change from being loud to being eerie, the noise audible but no one around, it messed with your head. I saw a group of boys, and as I walked passed they did the usual cheering, drunken idiots. I gave them my middle finger, and walked intentionally slowly, why should I be scared? They were all talk. I nearly reached a main road, full of cabs and bright lights again when I saw across the street him. He was walking fast, with his head down and I know he saw me. He was the one that wanted to kill me, he was after me and he knew I was looking at him. It was all his plot, you see, he was so obvious. Later on, they said he said he didn’t know who I was, why they believed him was beyond me, though I soon found out. He was sly, the devil in human clothing, anyone could tell you that. Anyone that looked at him, the way his back was hunched, his glasses sliding off his long, thin, nose. I knew him. He often reminded me of a rat, much like the one I saw by the road, he snivelled, and hid behind different forms but I knew it was him, the devil, trying to kill me, trying to stitch me up.

            I had been through a lot, I wasn’t the shy, skinny, fifteen year old I was when I first encountered him. I had aged ten years, I was fit, ready for him, ready for this moment when I would finish him off. In the courts he claimed I pounced in an animalistic fashion, but he didn’t understand, he was cunning them, and people fell for it. Wait till we all die, wait till then, when it was proven he was lying to them all and an innocent person was sent to the worst sort of prison.

            I laughed, right there in the street, loud enough for him to hear me. He picked a good body to wear this time, the bomber jacket was cream and looked like something a poor person would wear, normally he picked flashy people. I guess he thought I wouldn’t recognise him. He poked his head up, still pretending, and glanced at me. That was when I ran at him, he looked like a deer in headlights, his balding head was shinning, the street lamps radiating against his head. He looked like the devil then, as though the heavens were shinning a torch at him, telling me it was him, he needed to be vanquished.

            As I ran, I put my hand into the back of my jeans, I felt the knife and whipped it out. I prepared for this moment, ten whole years, a century, all for this moment that went so quickly it still makes me angry, even now when I know the outcome it annoys me that I cannot salvage the memory. With the knife in my hand, I raised it as I ran and the look of recognition on his face was humorous. Yes, I wanted to say, I knew it was you and I am going to kill you like you want to kill me. He ran, though. Yes, he ran! The devil ran from me. I knew I was the chosen one, the great one, the one God sent to defeat the devil and make the world whole and right again. But I always thought the devil would fight me, or at least attempt to. The man hailed his frail arms above his head and screamed.

            That was when the drunken people emerged from round the corner; they were a lot bigger than anticipated. It was then I realised it was all a trick. They were all after me, they were all the devils agents, but the real devil was that man and he was getting away. I ran then after him, but an obstruction stopped me. The people, or the things should I say, threw a bottle and it smashed against the concrete wall narrowly missing me. The devil was nearing the main road, but I was angry. He could go, I would not be ridiculed, insulted. Who was I? I wanted to show them, that I was the chosen one. Not just the chosen one, the chosen woman. Yes, I was a woman, a powerful one, and those men needed to learn that women were not objects, not to be abused like I have been. No, I was powerful, superhuman and I would kill them, men or the devils agents, whatever they were.

            The first kill was easy, they weren’t expecting it, they jeered as though I was playing around, when the knife went in the first ones gut, he didn’t yelp, he looked utterly shocked. I laughed, uncontrollably. Another person pulled my hair back, pushing me away. They snatched the knife from me and seemed sobered up. They didn’t try and hurt me, yet. They were focused on their companion; they were coddling him as he fell to the ground, holding his stomach. One took a phone out of his pocket, I couldn’t allow him to call for more enforcements. I knew it now, they were the devils agents. “You fucking bitch,” one of them barked at me, he stormed towards me but I stood my ground.

            “At least I am human, pure, you disgust me. The heavens will save me, but you, I pity you for being so evil and disgusting.” I had planned what I would say to them previously, but when the time came to actually say the words I froze, and I had to think on my feet. Needless to say he was tongue tied, they think so little of females, these things. If I was a man, with a sword, it would be different but because I was female they assumed I was weak. I reached for my backpack; I always came prepared. I drew out the matches.

            Three of the things were huddled around the injured one, two others went to get ‘help’ (though I’m sure they were getting more devil workers, which was fine by me, more to get rid of), there was only the one I was talking to that was paying any attention to me. It was strange, how quite the street had become, considering only about three hundred yards away there was traffic, and noise, and lights. I think they did something, made the street quiet, they had that power you know.

            I swiped the match against its box and watched the flame form; I swear I saw inside the flame Hell. The devils were there, in the flame, laughing. They would still laugh killing their own people, they loved to kill, loved it. I threw the match at the man; he was so unaware, so clueless that a woman could be the one to kill a devils serpent. As he screamed, and fell to the ground, I did the same thing to the group huddled around the injured one. They were so unaware, and that is what annoyed me, they saw everything I did but assumed I was innocent, not capable of doing much damage, but I was murdering them, killing off the evil in the world. Sadly, I didn’t have their master. I ran, to the main road, I would find him.

            Then, they, came. The cars cornering the area off, trapping me. The bright lights flashing, an ambulance. I screamed to them, screamed loud. “No!” I yelled repeatedly, innocent people did not have to die. But, as the police came out of the car, and the ambulance workers, I backed away; they too were the devils workers. I had no way out, I turned to the men. I saw the one I talked to was on the ground whimpering, he was bright red, I knew he was with the devil, the way his skin shone red, his true colours shown. The group that was huddled were fine, sadly. Except for the one I stabbed. I heard one of them say “he stopped breathing”. A smiled tugged at the corner of my lips, the devil wouldn’t be happy with that – it was a pride thing.

            The devils serpents were going through the motions, handcuffing me, making out I was the dangerous one. Then, they questioned me, and I told them I knew. They were great actors. In court, the devil was there. He was a witness. I attempted to climb over to him but I was unable, his devil workers were around me, holding me down. Here I am now, in a mental hospital. I am not mental. They stitched me up. They stitched me up good and proper.