Ah, I finally did it, I killed my ex, she is dead, the lying, stealing, using whore. Finally dead. Finally fucking dead. I strangled the bitch, just like she wanted me to do to her the first time we fucked, except this time I squeezed hard, and she wasn't expecting it. I didn't let go, I just stared at her, the panic and fear not trigging a fraction of sympathy within me, quite the opposite, in my heart I felt this to be justice. She was dead, finally dead. Her lying, whoring, using ass was finally made pure by the penalty she faced after getting away with it all for so, so long. I breathed in deep, and lit a cigarette, I don't smoke, hadn't in years. It made me cough, and that's when I began laughing, and laughing, I don't know how long, it felt like 30 minutes at least of just laughing. It was like I left my body. When I realized where I was again, and what I had done, I felt no grief, I felt instead, relief. This was justice, I knew, all she had to do was speak with respect, all she had to do was reject me, instead she ghosted me and lied. She shouldn't have done that. I cut off a small snip of her hair, and I eat some of it, the rest I put in a small baggie I brought with me. It would be encased in a resin cube I would thenafter keep on my desk as a paper weight. The small strands would glisten in the sunlight. "Do not lie to me", I say to the cube sometimes, "do not ever lie to me". - Excerpt from personal diary of [Name Redacted], the head of state of [Redacted]