Chapter twelve

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(Its almost been a year since I've updated this and all i can say about that it's because im a human garbage can, thank you for reading)
(But for real thanks for all your kind words and for sticking with me, lets have a great 2020)
(Also can i say its so weird that its 2020? I started writing this sophomore year in high school and now im a sophomore in college. Time flies for real, now enough of these edits and lets get on to the story)

You didn't know what you were going to write

You sat there... pen on paper... just unsure of yourself. You never thought you were much of the creative type. You couldn't draw... writing was a challenge.

You signed.

The consistent wave of self loathing ran over you and you stopped it before it hit the core.

No.

There wasn't time for that...

You tapped the pen, and lit up a cigarette. Maybe the nicotine would help creative juices, you didn't know, probably not. It wasn't easy like that.

"Im sorry.."

Those were the first words on the paper. The only words that could come to mind.

" Im sorry.." you printed out again. "Im sorry.. to my mom... my family... to... all those people, people i can't really remember because its a blur.."

You puffed on your cigarette, finally feeling the words come out.

"Im sorry i enabled all of this... im sorry i stood by his side... im sorry i was complicit"

You smoked more, almost needing another cigarette.

"Im sorry to everyone we've hurt, im saying sorry, because he never will..."

You sighed out shakily... tapping on the table.

"Theres no way, we can live with the things we've done..."

You thought to yourself, that, even if you got away, things... would... never be alright. You didn't want to leave here alive, you realized that now. You could never just do that, you could never move on. There was no future

The things.. thats have happened, the things you've done, the didn't deserve a future and there was no time to face it now.

They are things, you could never be sorry enough for, things that could never be forgiven.

You guys needed to be taken out, but you needed some sort of evidence that you were here, and that in the last days, you were sorry and were ready to right your wrongs.

So you kept writing....

...

You woke up different today. The feelings of sadness and self pity weren't there.

You stretched and lit up a cigarette. Getting out of bed to go to the bathroom and to get a drink.

Jeff was gone, he left a while ago to do whatever. You never really bothered or cared what he did anymore. Pure apathy and that hurt in a whole new sort of way.

A refreshing pain, but pain nonetheless.

You revised your plan.

Tonight... was gonna be a good night.

For the last time you would rest in his arms... and drift off to a lovely middle place. The place you know exists, the place you go to just before you drift off for the last time.

It was time...

....

He came back several hours later

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