It's a strange feeling, loving someone.
It starts out small then gracefully grows into something so power you'd never think could ever be possible. Then it's like a heartache because it's then that you realize you'd do anything for the person.
Even...
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My back was pressed against the wall. My eyes where closed, tears streaming down my cheeks.
My mind was replying over and over everything that happened. Every small little detail.
Could I have stopped it. Maybe if I would've said something different. Talk to him. Maybe this wouldn't have happened. But I'm wrong because when James got here he'd done it. He'd shot him, killed him.
The sound of people talking made me open my eyes and look down the hallway at a few workers walking down toward me. Quickly I gathered my self and headed straight outside for the parking lot.
My leg was killing me. The jolts of pain where no longer something I could ignore but I had to. I exit the building. My eyes searching for James but I don't see him - I start making my way to the cross walk.
I stood beside the light post. My hands trembling. My eyes watching every single person who walked by out of fear that they knew what I done. Who I was. My hands ran through my hair. I was a panicked mess.
Suddenly James is pulling up beside me, he reaches over and opens the door for me while asking 'where is he' I ignored him as I just got in the car. I didn't want to talk about it, and I knew James saw the blood splatter on my face.
He wasn't stupid. He knew.
My head was leaned against the window, my hands folded in my lap, my eyes where closed. I killed a man. I took someone life.
A life.
Something he is never, never getting back. No one is ever getting back and I took that.
"Are you hurt?" James mumbles, making me open my eyes but I didn't say anything. I couldn't find my voice. "Answer me, Elena, Are you hurt?"
I shake my head already knowing he was looking at me. "No." I numbly say. I took a deep breathe, trying to collect myself. It was then that I felt James's hands rest on my thigh.
My head rolls over to look at him. I didn't speak. His eyes held worry and concern every time he would steal glances at me.
"What happened?" His voice was low. His hand squeezing my thigh in a reassuring gesture.
"He's dead . . . I shot him." Tears trickled my eyes, my breath caught in my throat. I said it out loud. Saying it out loud made it real, this was real, and it wasn't going away.
James only lets go of my thigh when his phone starts buzzing. I had a feeling it was Camila. O zoned out, I didn't want to hear what they had to say about this day. Because today I broke myself, I broke my morals, I broke everything I ever believed in, I broke my soul tore it apart. Today I became like them.
