Short Stories and Poems

The Monster Within

I look around at the disaster in front of me. I cough as I breathe in dust that drifts through the cold air. What was going to happen now? I am all alone.

I look up at the dark, cloudy sky. It was about to rain. I dash into a ruined building, the only one that had anything that resembles a roof.

I start to cry into my blood and dirt stained hands, images of screaming, crying, helpless people running though my mind. What have I done? I have robbed people of their life, freedom, love, hope. I'm a monster, and should be treated as such. I should be damned to Hell for what I've done. I don't deserve to live.

I hear rain start to pelt down outside. I wipe my eyes and face, smearing them with scarlet. I'm not going to cry, I don't deserve to cry, I think to myself. I brought this on myself.

I stand up and walk into the rain. I survey the land. Bodies are scattered everywhere. I'm glad at least some people got away in time. I look up at the grey sky, letting the rain blur my vision. The cold water washes over me, my face, hands and arms.

The rain may be able to clean my body of what I've done, but nothing can clean my mind of the monster I am, and the lifes I have ruined.