Chapter 8: No regrets

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The woman entered her house with a big smile on her face. The one you make after you win the lottery. In their case, they won something bigger than the lottery. An arrest was going to be made.

Tommy was staring at the black T.V screen, he heard the sound of the door opening. He didn't turn back. He knew who came.

"What's the update?" He said without turning back.

"An arrest is going to be made. There is a press conference tonight." She replied as she closed the door.

"The same guy?"

"The same guy."

"What did he do?"

"I don't know, there was blood on some piece of paper and the prints matched the one on the murder weapon."

"Poor guy." He said, but he didn't mean it. Not even the slightest bit of sympathy. He smiled.

"What next?"

"We continue living."

"The same way?"

"The same way."

"Don't you want to come out."

"Not yet, maybe I will. Not now."

"Why?"

"My reasons."

They both said nothing after. The woman left after some time. Tommy stayed there. He turned the lights off. Got on his bed and closed his eyes. He got up right after he closed his eyes. He sat there like he was missing something. He kept thinking.

Why did I do it?

What was wrong with me?

What is wrong with me?

Small tears came out of his eyes.

What am I now?

Too late to change it now.

He went to a closet standing on the opposite side of the door. He never opened it since that day. He felt like opening it now. He wanted to. He reached the top of the cupboard. He took a metal key from the top of it. He slowly inserted the key in and turned it. He opened it slowly as if there was something in it that would hurt him. There was something there. Not physically, emotionally.

He opened a book. It was full of pictures. He looked at it. No emotion was shown on his face. He didn't want to show it. He came across a photo. Two young identical boys. Arms around each other. Smiling with their cute little teeth. He suddenly closed it.

He slammed the door of the closet shut. He was a man with guilt. Guilt from a young age onwards.

Too late to change it now.

He kicked the closed door out of anger and guilt. He was stuck between two worlds. A world he would change what he did in the past. A world he wants to do more to the people that hurt him most.

Too late to change it now.

I did what I wanted to do.

I have no regrets.

He was done now. There was nothing more to it. He got what he wanted. He did what he had to do. 

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