𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]

[51]: hurt

I was set in an unblinking trance, somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness. I felt like I had been leaning up against the tree for days, nights passing me by without so much as a breath escaping me.

The night had grown dark, with the stars emerging and fear ensuing. I was left with nothing but uncertainty to drive me to do anything next.

If my mind wasn't worried about what the night held, I think I would have stayed there forever.

If I still wasn't so scared... still, then I would have stayed there. But I still was. I was still so scared, and I don't think anyone could understand how you could be so frightened of not only what was around you, but yourself, and still kill someone.

I killed someone.

I just killed someone.

It was like I was waiting for it to cripple me. For the guilt and horror to hurt me so bad, I didn't want to live anymore. When it hurt so much you just wanted to never be yourself again.

But it hadn't hit me yet like I had turned something off because my mind was scarcely retreating from the blood that stained every inch of me.

It dried up my hair, tangled it, turned it a dull red - along with pinching my skin with a copper paint, one that sunk inside you like an infection.

I slowly moved my fingers in my lap, looking down with what little light the day had left to see the blood dried around my nails. It crusted and chipped slowly, lines, where my fingers bent, showed my skin colour.

It felt like a glass shell was encasing me, stopping me from moving comfortably.

I wiggled my toes in my boots, tilted my neck, bending my elbows, slowly getting my body to work again.

I groaned heavily as I got myself to stand again, with great difficulty.

It was like a rebirth of some sorts, my new body taking time to cooperate.

I looked around my space, only just making out the lines of the ground scattered with dried leaves and broken twigs.

I couldn't see much as I travelled in and around the trees, swerving left and right when my headache deemed so.

It was too hot despite my breath turning to mist in the dark air. My skin prickled and goosebumps rose, but my insides were like boiling fire. I was burning up from the inside. The pressure pulsating in my skull was deafening.

But I still had to get back.

Shane had told me to take and different route so we wouldn't be seen together. I didn't usually like taking orders from anyone but it seemed logical

But it was now nighttime. Shane had surely masqueraded the group around the woods, leading them around Randall's body and making it look like he ran away - when in reality, Shane was protecting me.

So I didn't take a longer or obscure route, I went straight to the farm with my hands held slightly upward, my eyes blinking rapidly as I tried not to trip on anything I couldn't see.

I tried my best to follow the feeling of going back, watching in front of me for the shore of the forest. It dipped up and down, throwing me off balance.

I breathed heavily, not praying because... I could never will myself to pray for anything.

I didn't realise it at first, but I had made it to the edge.

I looked on to the house, past the shed and the few scattered trees and cars.

After all this time, it still looked untouched. Preserved in its own little bubble of serenity. Slowly deflating, ready to burst and take us all aback.