Cold. That's all I can really feel.

 Fear. There's that also.

 I think this is what it's like to be on a drug gone wrong. My body shakes as though it is in the middle of it's own earthquake. My brow is sodden with persperation, yet I'm so cold I am sure I'll never be warm again.

 Faces. I can see them, nineteen of them, Ashley falling, Riley flailing, the others, fall, splash, crumble, blood.

 Blood. There's so much of that. It's splattered on my hands, in my eyes, staining my eyes forever.

 There's this terrible cloak of danger covering me, of anxiety, pranoia and somewhere there's a dark truth there, that I'll never be the same again. I'm guilty.

************************************************************************

 I pull myself back into the room and look with fear into the officers eyes. They're cold and unforgiving. Guilt.

 "finish what you started." he whispers, I shake my head.

 I will never speak again, I promise myself. I don't care if I go to prison forever and ever, I can't tell them what happened. They probably wouldn't believe me anyway. I bring my head to the desk and cry.

 There they are. The tears I have been waiting for. But instead of washing away the guilt, the pain, the sadness, they make it burn hot on my face, on my skin. I can feel my sanity crumbling away from me, like an empty shell.

 I can feel my whole body shaking from the force of the tears. That only makes it worse, the memory feel stronger. Cold covers me and I'm back there, standing by the lake, shivering.

 Blood.

 It'll never be washed away.

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Author guidance for This story

A little freaky, but freakyness is good sometimes lol! I liked the atmosphere of the image I had, thats what it's mainly about, plus a little mystery is always good! Much Love

updated Apr 7 '09 by HannahB