Uncertainty (Joshler)

Chapter 1

    My feet hit the cracked sidewalk of New York City, it was wet from the rain, the thin sheen of water reflecting the city lights. I was running, faster than I'd ever run before, adrenaline pumping through my veins, my lungs burning, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew that I was running from the police but I didn't know why. I just knew that I had done something really bad and that I had to get as far away as possible. I didn't know what I did and with the small part of my mind that wasn't focusing on running was filled with guilt and crippling sadness about whatever I did.

    But what did I do? What did I fucking do? I didn't know what I did and it was consuming my thoughts because whatever it was that I had done was unforgivable. Tears were silently running down my face and I tripped, stumbling a bit before I fell and landed on the cold concrete next to a tall brick building, the rain hitting my back repeatedly, like millions of tiny bullets from the sky, as I gasped for breath.

    Then out of nowhere, I started sobbing, my body shaking with the intensity. The guilt was consuming me along with the feeling of a great loss. A loss that I had caused. It was like the feeling of losing someone extremely close to you just a billion times worse. I'd felt pretty damn bad on many other occasions, suicidal, depressed, panic attacks, all of that, but none of it had even begun to reach the level of how I felt now. I was far passed suicidal. My mind was just a blur of sadness darker than the farthest corner of the universe.

    And there as I lay shaking and crying at 4 AM in New York City, rain drenching my soul, I heard the sirens and the flashing lights soon appeared, looking like little red and blue gems through the sheets of rain. I didn't even bother trying to get up and start running again because to be honest, I didn't even think I was running from the cops before, I was running from whatever I did, from the horrible guilt that was possessing me. From whatever horrific act that I had committed. Where ever I ended up I deserved it.

    I hardly even noticed when the four police cars came to a stop, the lights flashing blindingly in my face. One of the officers yelled something at me but I couldn't comprehend what he was saying over the sobs that were still wracking through my body.

    "I said put your hands up!" he yelled again, kicking me roughly with his hard black leather boot. I looked up at him, inching back towards the wall and shakily raising my hands above my head, biting my lip to hold back the sobs, tears still streaming down my face.

    "I- I don't know what I did," I cried out, choking over my words, as the police officer roughly cuffed me and dragged me towards the car, completely ignoring my repeated questions.

   Finally, as I was huddled in the corner of the back of the cruiser I stopped asking. I stopped doing anything. Because the memories were starting to flood back. I tried to push them away but it was too hard. The tears were cascading down my face harder than ever as I tried to get the scene out of my mind. There was blood, so, so much blood, covering my hands and making puddles that looked like liquid rubies around the lifeless body.

    I was beginning to remember everything all too clearly. His voice begging me to stop, frantically asking me what the fuck I was doing. Which was exactly what I was asking myself now, as strangled sobs escaped my lips.

   As the memory came back in bits and pieces the pain of it all just got harder and harder to manage. But no matter how hard I tried I couldn't block it out, couldn't push the horrible images out of my mind.

    I remembered the hypnotising gleam of the metal that was the knife. I remembered the dull sound of my footsteps as I calmly walked across the soft carpeting of the hotel room towards his bed. I remembered exactly how I had felt in that moment, completely serene and fixed on what I was about to do, completely emotionless. Even at the time, I didn't know why I was doing what I did, I was just doing it.

    I remembered his familiar voice begging me to stop. I remembered how utterly terrified his voice had been. I remembered the fear in his eyes, something that I had never before that moment seen him look at me with. I remembered the feeling of the blade as I stabbed it directly into his heart, the blood as it gushed out, a warm river of red.

    But worst of all I remembered his last words, spoken in a shallow, raspy voice.

    "I don't know why you did this, friend, but I love you," Josh said.

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A/N: lmao this was super short and shit and i'm not sure if i'm going to post another chapter or not yet. if you actually read this then tysm and maybe leave a comment to say if you want another chapter or not.

~~Ryan