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𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕
Ever since Johnny passed, I've been carrying this weight that I can't shake off. It's this gnawing guilt that eats at me every day, and it only gets worse when I think about Y/N . She's been slipping away from us, drifting further from the gang, and it's like we barely see her anymore. We hardly hear from her, and even Dallas, who used to be so close to her, can't seem to reach her now. When he does find her, she's always at the cemetery, by Johnny's grave.
I visit Johnny every Friday. It's my way of trying to make sense of it all, to feel close to him again. But today, when I went to the cemetery, I saw her there. From a distance, I caught a glimpse of her side profile. It was like the life had been drained out of her—her eyes were puffy, like she'd been crying for hours. The sight of her like that hit me hard.
As I walked closer, she turned around, probably about to leave. She didn't even acknowledge me. She just walked past me, silent, with a tear slipping down her cheek. It was like she was in her own world, lost in a pain so deep that nothing else mattered.
And in that moment, I felt something beyond guilt. Guilt doesn't even come close to describing it. It was this hollow ache, knowing that I had a hand in taking away the one person who was her entire world. If I hadn't saved those kids from that fire, Johnny would still be alive, and maybe—just maybe—she wouldn't be so broken.
I realized then that I hadn't just lost my best friend that day; I had taken away Y/N's brother, her protector, the person she loved more than anything. And that's a burden I'm not sure I'll ever be able to carry.
