To Your End

July 2, 2022

The darkness felt suffocating as I sat there, staring at the blank walls. My lips trembled, my hands shook uncontrollably, and my eyes were swollen from the tears that had flooded them. I could feel my limbs growing weak as if the weight of what had just happened had drained every ounce of strength from my body. My heart was pounding in my chest, but my mind—my mind couldn't stop replaying it over and over again.

Where had it all gone wrong? How had it gotten this far? It was just a push. A simple push. Nothing more. But everything had spiraled from there, and now... now Dean was lying in the dark room, a bloodied mess, with no way to undo what had happened.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. My body was paralyzed, my thoughts trapped in a loop of regret and fear. I didn't dare look at it—didn't dare look at him. The guilt was unbearable.

Time seemed to stretch as I waited. The minutes dragged on like hours. The sound of my own breathing was the only thing I could hear. The apartment was silent, save for the occasional distant noises from outside. Everything seemed so distant, so surreal.

After what felt like an eternity, the doorbell rang.

I flinched, a sharp intake of breath escaping my lips. The sound was like a sudden, piercing reminder of everything that had just transpired. I could hear voices outside the door, and the panic surged within me.

"Una... Una, it's us. Open the door," came Naveen's voice, soft but urgent.

But I couldn't. My body refused to move. The darkness was my only solace, my only shield from the nightmare that had just unfolded.

I could hear their voices growing louder as they tried to coax me into opening up, but I stayed silent, curled up in the shadows, my body shaking. I couldn't bring myself to face them. I couldn't bring myself to face this.

And then, the door flung open.

Naveen had broken the lock. They rushed inside, their footsteps heavy on the floor, and I could hear the panic in their voices as they searched for me.

"Una, where are you?!" Maria's voice called, desperate and frantic.

I couldn't answer. I was too consumed by the fear that had a tight grip on my chest. I could feel their presence now, closer than ever, but I couldn't bring myself to face them. I couldn't look at the mess I had made.

Maria finally found me, crouching beside me in the dark. I felt her warm hand on my arm, pulling me up gently. "It's okay, Una," she whispered, her voice filled with concern.

But it wasn't okay. Nothing was okay.

The bright light from the lamp flickered on, making my eyes squint as they adjusted to the sudden illumination. And that's when I saw it—the thing I had been trying to avoid. The thing I had been terrified of.

Dean.

His body was lifeless on the floor, sprawled out unnaturally. Blood pooled around him, staining the carpet, and a blade was embedded deep in his forehead. His eyes were wide open, staring into nothingness. It was a sight I couldn't unsee, a nightmare that would haunt me forever.

"I killed him," I muttered over and over again, the words barely audible, my voice cracked with terror.

Maria's face was a mask of shock, but she didn't panic. She knelt beside me, her hands gripping my shoulders as she looked me dead in the eyes. "No, Una. No, you didn't kill him."

I shook my head, the guilt and fear overwhelming me. "I killed him. I pushed him. I killed him," I repeated, my voice rising in hysteria.

Maria took a deep breath, trying to calm me down. "Listen to me," she said firmly. "You didn't kill him, okay? He was like this when you came here."