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He failed to stop his mother. He failed to save her. He remembered he ran with the speed he could attain. He remembered jumping towards her when he finally knew he couldn't meet up.

His hands were stretched out, reaching out to grab hers, yet, they weren't enough. His skin brushed against hers. He caught her hand, mostly her fingers, but it seemed as though she intentionally let hers slip away from his, falling to her death.

Once he reached the ground, he couldn't help but crawl his way toward the end of the plane, hoping she would be hanging somewhere, of which he would sacrifice and give his all into saving her.

Yet he crawled energetically, with all his strength, not minding what pressure applied to his skin, or if his skin would be scrapped away from his bones.

He had sweat rolling down his face, tears running down his eyes, the pain and the feeling of guilt was rejuvenated in him again.

He crawled, reaching the end of the plateau, he laid down and stretched his neck out, with ho