I stare at the window, observing my grim reflection as I begin to come to terms with what I have just done.
The first thought that comes to mind is, "It was their own mistake... Right?"
Suddenly, all hell breaks lose and once more my mind is filled with relentless hate, pain, anger... All tearing away at the delicate balance I had tried to keep for the past hour. They force me to face the true nature of what I have done.
I have killed the one person that I have ever trusted, maybe loved - but most definitely cared about more than myself.
All it took was one shot, one bullet and a mind controlled by a sudden, twisted hate that knew no bounds.
A part of me - the weak part of me - wishes to run back to him and beg him to stay alive, for him to stay with me until my final hours. The stronger half of my spirit decides against it, and commands me to continue along my journey alone, making no such mistakes of allowing care to get the better of me.
If there is anybody's company that I enjoy, i