I Have Realized That Part Of Being

But I Killed A Man Just Like My Mother Did. David Says It’s Okay Because I Didn’t Mean To, And Because He Was About To Kill That Little Kid. But I’m Pretty Sure My Mom Didn’t Mean To Kill My Dad, Either, So What Difference Does That Make, Meaning Or Not Meaning To Do Something? Accident Or On Purpose, The Result Is The Same, And That’s One Fewer Life Than There Should Be In The World.

Not Like Tobias, Who Is Almost Shy When He Smiles, Like He Is Surprised You Bothered To Look At Him In The First Place.

In That Moment I Know Exactly What I Want; I Want To Peel Away All The Layers Of Clothing Between Us, Strip Away Everything That Separates Us, The Past And The Present And The Future.

The Man Running Toward Me Is Not A Man, He Is A Boy. A Shaggy-haired Boy With A Crease Between His Eyebrows. Will. Dull-eyed And Mindless, But Still Will. He Stops Running And Mirrors Me, His Feet Planted And His Gun Up. In An Instant, I See His Finger Poised Over The Trigger And Hear The Bullet Slide Into The Chamber, And I Fire. My Eyes Squeezed Shut. Can't Breathe. The Bullet Hit Him In The Head. I Know Because That's Where I Aimed It.

Maybe Time Would Not Feel As Heavy If I Didn't Have This Guilt -- The Guilt Of Knowing The Truth And Stuffing It Down Where No One Can See It, Not Even Tobias. Maybe I Should Not Be So Afraid Of Saying Anything, Because Honesty Will Make Me Feel Lighter.