150. Just Keep Moving

~ JESSE ~

We were now sitting on the normal couch that squatted against the wall of the room. I’d led him to it when he started shaking in the middle of that story. It was wide and flat and he was a lot less likely to fall off of it when he swayed. He hadn’t even stopped talking, his eyes darting left and right as if he wasn’t seeing this room at all, but the events he was describing.

When he sat down, He bent forward, elbows on his knees, head hanging from his shoulders and buried his face in his hands.

But he didn’t stop.

When he first started speaking there was a pinch of jealousy in my chest because he smiled when he remembered caring about her, hiding her from his father. The hope… I’d never seen him hope before, and I ached for it.

But I wept for him when he described the moment he discovered them together.

I sobbed when his voice cracked as he tonelessly described shifting and killing his brother.

And when he talked about confronting, and ultimately killing her… I could barely