Black and white.

~^~

I knew in my heart that leaving wouldn't have been the right thing to do. It probably was the wise thing, but not the right thing. I held myself up painfully and entered the house where I saw the lifeless body of Marc on the ground. He didn't deserve this. His son didn't deserve this. As best and respectfully as I could, I pulled and dragged the body out

regardless if I was bleeding myself, and dragged him under the tree where his wife's grave was beneath. At that moment, I slumped to the ground. The feeling was numb and there was nothing I could do anymore. I hated it. I hated how helpless and how unfair this situation was. Part of me hated myself because I felt like this was my fault. I shouldn't have gotten involved with him, with anyone. Everyone I go to, I put them in danger. I never cried so much over a dead man's body. Literally. The sudden wash of anger and frustration swept across me giving me chills. It was painful.

I felt cold and damp, my consciousness was slippin