~the undead Diaries~ (re-editing!!)

the twist

(still Finns Pov) 

Once he had managed to regain some semblance of calmness, I stepped forward to assist him in standing. His legs trembled uncontrollably beneath him, as if they were made of jelly, and I could feel the urgency in my own heart as I gently wrapped my arm around his waist, providing the support he so desperately needed. Slowly, we navigated the distance to one of the chairs that dotted the room, each step a battle against the weight of his grief.

As we reached the chair, I carefully lowered him into it, ensuring he was stable and comfortable before taking a step back. I watched him curl inward, his body folding in on itself as if trying to shield him from the harsh reality that surrounded us. The boy looked utterly shattered, his eyes hollow and glossed over with unshed tears. It broke my heart to see him this way—a victim of emotional turmoil, grappling with the unimaginable loss of his best friend. The room felt heavy with an unspoken sorrow, and despite the presence of others, it was painfully clear that no one seemed to know how to help him navigate through this abyss of despair.

I glanced around at the others in the room, feeling a heavy weight settle in my chest. With a subtle gesture, I signaled for them to give Apollo the space he desperately needed. Darcy was the first to understand, her brows furrowed in concern as she hesitated for just a moment before she turned to leave. Following her lead, Athena, Monrow, Arrow, and I shuffled out, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension and confusion. As I reached the door, an irresistible urge compelled me to look back one last time at Apollo.

He slumped against the wall, his usually bright eyes now dulled, reflecting an exhaustion that seemed to sap the very light from the room. I could feel the agony of the moment wrapped around us like a suffocating shroud, and my heart ached for him. But I knew he needed solitude to wrestle with his thoughts and emotions—in that moment, grief demanded space. After a final, lingering look, I turned and stepped outside, the door creaking shut behind me with an unsettling finality.

The hallway felt eerily quiet as I joined the others, who were still rooted in place, their faces a mixture of confusion and concern. Athena was the first to break the silence, her voice rising in frustration. "What the hell happened in there?" she demanded, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and worry.

I met her gaze but found myself unable to muster the words to respond. It was as if a great void had opened up in my mind, swallowing any coherent thought. My throat tightened, and I felt a cold wave of helplessness wash over me. I wanted to explain the turmoil I'd just experienced, the weight of what I had done, but my body wouldn't cooperate—no words could capture the horror and sorrow churning inside me.

In a daze, I turned and made my way to my room, each step feeling heavier than the last. I could hear the muffled sounds of the others behind me, but I paid them no mind. I needed to be alone now more than ever. I had just taken a life—someone I had once cherished. The gravity of that realization hung over me like an anchor, pulling me down into a sea of guilt and grief. I closed the door behind me, hoping to find some semblance of clarity in the solitude, but the echoes of that moment would follow me long after the silence settled in.

I just killed my little brother............