Sensitive topics. Kinda bad story. Trauma. Murder. Bad life choices and making worse ones
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He watched the clouds roll up the pavement of the driveway from the steps of the front porch, building up since 4AM
Pulling his legs into his chest, settling himself into a more comfortable position. Unable to truly go out in the day time, he's been up for several hours. Enjoying the night, planning to sleep throughout the day.
Unusually though, even as the sun began to rise, he couldn't make himself move.
The sunlight reflecting off the fog, creating an illumination much like the headlights from that night. His thoughts trailed into memories of what happened as he sat there frozen, mentally reliving the incident only he managed to live through.
The loose, numb feeling in his limbs. The exhaustion of his drunken night out. Easily compared to the moment of sitting in the coolness of fall, having not slept for days .
Watching the headlights come straight towards them, but a late reaction resulting in his sister's screams of terror and the sounds of scraping metal.
Just the memory of the sounds were loud enough to shake him out of it.
He stood, going back into the house. Immediately stricken with the sight of blood on the walls. Although he created this mess, it hit much more different than before. Looking over to the lifeless body of the only previous inhabitant, he knelt beside her . Caressing her cheek, thinking about how much alike she looked to his sister, had she gotten to live as long.
" I'm sorry." He said, unsure of why he was apologizing exactly. Killing her for convenience or indirectly apologizing to his sister. Regardless, he called it a day and went to one of the rooms to sleep. Already tired, thinking about what he'll do next week.
Just before he managed to drift off into sleep, he made a mental note to avoid the early morning fog. Too many memories of too little time.
