Bury the Fallen
Two years ago.
I stand over her observing her face. Her mouth was still, but her eyes silently spoke to me.
They were begging eyes. Begging me to make her understand. To make her know what I had just done and why. The surface of her eyes change slowly. From begging pain to pleading tears. The words of her speechless mouth were screaming through my ears. I knew what she wanted, just by her empty, heavy breathing. She wanted me to help her. I felt sadness and anger swell in my heart. I kneeled down to her side, and she followed me with her eyes.
“I’ll send the pain away.” I whispered, pushing her hair aside. I run my fingers down her pale cheek.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry." I only look into her eyes, and listen to these words escape my lips.
“I’m sorry.” I say once again and this time the words linger behind. A bad after taste burns my tongue. An intense sound fills my ears. Once. And again. Then I wait. Until her silent, slow breathing comes to an end. My heart beats so much in my chest it feels like it’s going to explode. I zap my paralyzed mind back to life and reality begins to build up around me again. I look down at my mother’s body, stiff and cold. My hand stings. I pull it away from her. I drop the gun from my hand, and it falls into a puddle of blood.
What have I done..?
to be continued...