It was the first time I killed a man. He lay there, motionless, with the gun beside him. Though, I wasn't the one with the gun, he was. I never pulled the trigger. Yet, I feel like this is all my fault.
Two months earlier, this was my boyfriend. My soulmate, no, but someone I trusted with everything, yes. Suddenly though, we started growing apart, like any couple does. Only this time, it resulted in fights. My trust issues and his stubornness clashed. It did so much, that he started getting into drugs, which only made things worse.
Tonight, he came home high, really high. We started arguing about how he needs to stop and pay more attention to me. This lead us to talking about breaking up. His last words were, "If freedom comes with death, then what's the point in living?" He ran to his room and grabbed a hand gun. He came back and pulled the trigger, right to the brain.
Maybe its not my fault, but that's how the police and his family are going to see it. That's how I killed a man.
