{12th July 2016: 11:37pm}
I stand in the field now, watching as the birds circle above me, like I am some sort of prey, waiting, hoping, for me to give up. Ahead, I can see the faint outline of a figure, and I think it's him, and I know it's him, but I am too weak to make it.
I am surrounded by ash, covered in it- trapped, almost- and I can't seem to find a way out, a finish line, an end. All I can see is black and smoke and ash and him.
Is he looking at me or the field itself? Is he looking at me or the chaos that I have caused?
I have never seen so much destruction inflicted upon a single soul, yet here I am, drowning in the tears of my victims, drowning in the fear and the guilt.
I am in conflict with myself, because of the conflict I have brought upon others.
I have a heavy soul, and that makes it hard to move; which is why, I guess, I stand still instead of running. Not because I am not afraid, but because I am too afraid.
When I saw him, I thought it was an apparition, some sort of joke set up by someone who really hated me- or had a death wish- and was nothing more than a harmful prank.
Then came the deaths. And I killed them, although I didn't mean to. I killed them all, but I can't control it.
A game needs a player, so maybe I was the game and he was the player, maybe I was the one doing it, but he was the one telling me to.
Who would be next?
I know who is going to be next.
//VOTE//COMMENT//SMILE//
YOU ARE READING
twilight
Short Story[now i see the stars, when i should be dreaming but how can i dream when these thoughts make the universe?]
