{penitence} for 5.6.12

My pulse pounds in my ears.

How’d I get here?

Everything leading up to this moment screams for justification. But, I have nothing to give. Nothing can validate what I just did.

I can see him closing his eyes, his last breath leaving his body. Stolen by the power of death.

What am I doing?

I see him again. His head is cradled in his hands, and the tears are freely flowing down his worn, olive-toned, sun-beaten face, as he sees the man I’ve become.

I don’t have any time to think about that. The sirens are getting closer.

What have I done?