Imagine If You Were Forced To Go To The Funerals Of Every Character You Killed And You Could See Their

Imagine if you were forced to go to the funerals of every character you killed and you could see their ghost there. All the wasted years that could've come, all in front of you ripped to shreds by your own hand.

'I walked into the hall. I didn't want to come here nor did I want to stay but I couldn't leave. I was here for him. He died because of me.

His mother stood on the podium giving a speech in her eloquent way that I had made her to be but I could see the life leeched from her eyes. Yet she went on and on about what a great person her son was because she knew that these funerals were for the living.

"Was I not enough," he asked from behind me. His eyes had become hollow to match his heart. His skin was gray and ghoulish and blood poured down from where I stabbed him.

"What did I ever do wrong," tears swept down his cheeks. He had cried when he was alive and then he cried at his own funeral.

I did that to him. Sitting in the pew of a death that I brought of a life that I started. I couldn't stop the tears that flowed out, blinding me in blur of pain and the sound of my own sobbing.

I think I caught the eyes of some of the people there because I was crying like I knew him personally. Truth was no one knew him that well except for two people and one of them was me.

As for the other person...he hadn't even showed up.

I may have attended a funeral so similar that it felt like a fever dream, a funeral of a person I killed. A person I brought misery and nothing more. It never hurt any less.

I'd taken him too soon with too much pain that he didn't deserve.

Will the hollow ache of his soul ever heal?

Will he ever find peace?

I'm afraid to continue his story for the fear that I will only bring more pain.'