My last and rather unknowing person was a young teenager boy, aged just eighteen. He was a model at the Art classes I took at the Community Center. He always like me and I've always like him. But, now at the of thirty-two and the way that people would act if I was to marry such a young man, boyed me up to make this the last death for my revenge. I didn't care if I was to be unveiled as the long last murderer of all those killings. We had cuddled up at the sofa watching a love film, we've finished our dinner and I had a knife behind my back. I first stabbed his leg and then his chest. He didn't put up much of a fight, because of how skinny he was. He slapped me, I punched him and kicked him. I then head butted him, which made him fall back onto the sofa, unconscious. I walked over to the phone and rung the police saying that I'm killing my boyfriend and that you need to stop me quickly before I do something I regretted. I stroded back towards him, pulled his trousers off and cutted off his large family jewels. He was screaming all the way through, but he didn鈥檛 stop me. Afterwards, I held them up in the air just as the police banged the door down and saw me holding them. They asked my name.
I replied.
"My name is Katya Mae Oriel Havisham. I will tell you my age, but look at my beauty and ask yourself,"
They asked why I did say my madien name instead of my eighth husband's name.
I had turned insane now. I did not know who I was, so I replied.
"I'm only sixteen and my heart if made of stone or ice, I can't tell you. Would you please help me warm it up,"
They never did. I couldn't do it either, so it stayed like this for years and years. I kept on telling my brother and his nephew, not to focus on beauty nor age but what is inside, that is what counts and love the person you truly love. | 
