Crossroads - H.S.

Chapter 36

Jude's p.o.v.

I killed him.

I stopped him heart. Took his life. Splattered his brains all over the fucking room.

I'm a monster.

I have spent my entire life surrounded by low-lifes, and people who caused a lot of pain to the people around them.

The one thing I saw in myself that I was proud of, and that I learned from my mother, was kindness. I'm not a destructive or harmful person, and the thought of even hurting someone's feelings could make me sick.

And now I've killed a man.

I've never felt more ashamed or disappointed in myself. I told Harry to leave and to let it go- why couldn't I?

I feel disgusting. I feel like my skin has been infected with some sort of virus that I can't get rid of. The worst part is, I'm the one who willingly invited this invasion into my mind and body. I pulled the trigger.

There's no excuse. I knew what I was doing. I wanted him dead. Everything he was saying made me so angry. I felt all of the pain from the day my mom died all over again, and I just wanted it to go away. I wanted him to go away.

But looking in the mirror right now, all I see is a repulsive monster staring right back at me.

As soon as I got home, I peeled off my clothes and got into the shower, and I stayed in there until the water ran ice cold. I feel as though my skin is burned with a mark that won't heal. A mark that won't go away.

I scrubbed at my skin until it grew hot and began to hurt. I must've washed my hair four times, feeling as though I've become tainted with every impurity known to man.

But it won't wash off.

The nausea and dizziness won't go away, and it keeps getting worse the more the moment his soul left his body replays in my head. It's stuck on a loop.

There's so much leading up to this that I could've done differently.

I made an emotional decision instead of a rational one, and this one mistake is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

I didn't think I could feel any worse than the moment I found my mother dead, but this is horrific.

I pull my towel tighter around my body, taking a deep breath before opening the bathroom door and stepping into my bedroom.

"Hi." Harry says softly from my bed. He's sitting on the edge with his elbows rested on his knees. He has changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt.

He has barely spoken to me since we left the building Jacob was keeping me and Grace in. It was a warehouse about an hour away from here that had been abandoned. Harry thinks he found it specifically to have a place to keep Grace, which just shows how fucked up this whole thing has been.

"Hi." I say back with a shaky, cracked voice. I walk over to my closet to quickly pull on one of Harry's shirts and a pair of shorts before going to my bed and sitting down against the headboard.

Harry stands up and walks to the side of the bed so he can sit next to me. He looks like he's at a loss for words, but I honestly can't blame him. I wouldn't want to speak to me either.

"Are you okay?" He asks sincerely, reaching his hand out to rest on my leg. He rubs his thumb back and forth along my bare thigh, and the small gesture is rather comforting right now.

"That's a bit of a backhanded question. I don't know how I am." I answer honestly.

I don't know if I could put all of the emotions I'm feeling into words, but I want to try. Harry's trying to help and I don't want to shut him out, or put up the wall I have put up so many times before.