Music For Cars

XXV

It's illegal...and dangerous. But I wanted to go home. I refused to go to prison. I was tired of California. I felt like (Y/N)'s mother and brother were so lucky to go home. Standing in this airport made me think of that first day...even though it was in the middle of the night. 

I hoped Chris wouldn't mind me quitting the band. I left him a long Word document on his laptop for him to see when he opened it at the studio. I just needed to get back to Scranton. The feeling of killing someone is extremely overwhelming, especially when it's in the spotlight. I took (Y/N)'s life and it was something I could never give back to her...or Chris.

The visions of her body were terrifying and hard to grasp that I did them. There were images of (Y/N)'s remaining family members at her funeral, sobbing. I was sure I put her mother through hell, not counting the pain I'm putting her brother through.

I was going to make sure the TSA wouldn't find my stash. Getting high will be my only resort to feel nothing at all. My goals with life were low. Find apartment, get a job, end of story.

I loved her. And I killed her. And now I'm thinking about killing myself.