For @niallssweater
‘What have I done?’
I keep repeating it to myself, but whispers turn into screams and tears into uncontrollable sobs. I rub my eyes, trying to erase the image from my mind, but the sight of what happened in that house, the look in his eyes, keeps returning. It was that kind of look where he didn’t have to say anything to explain it all to me. He was desperate, and scared, but even through all the weakness in his eyes, I could still see he loved me, ...his look was a way to tell me it was okay. It all was okay, it has always been, it’ll always be. It’s okay if I’d leave.
‘What have I done?’
I should’ve stayed. I could’ve saved him. Then he would still be here next to me. Then we could watch the dark night starting to fade away together. Then I could tell him I loved him. Then we would be running here hand in hand.
But now I’m here alone. And it finally hits me. I’m alone. He’s not here anymore. That’s when my knees lose their strength and my eyes lose their sight. And just for this one moment, I realize that this is it. He’s gone, and every single atom in my whole body already misses him. The pain spreading through my body is unbearable, but nothing is worse than the guilt forming in my heart.
‘Oh, Luke, what have I done?’
It’s only a whisper. It doesn’t mind, he’ll never hear it. He’s not here.
Luke’s dead, Luke’s killed. And I couldn’t stop it.
