I see her every time I close my eyes. Her round cheeks and her eyes with that accusing glare, her lips turned down in a frown.
She dropped the flower in her hand to the floor. It landed at her feet beside her puppy, who was growling menacingly at me.
Both of them were covered in blood and soot. She reaches her blood covered hand out to me and touches my throat.
I suddenly feel like I can't breathe but I can't make her hand to move.
"You killed us. It's your fault. You have to pay." She said in a bell like voice.
My eyes snapped open and I gasped for air. Such frightening words from the lips of a child.
I was suddenly aware of four sets of concerned eyes locked on me. We were all sitting in the living room. I guess I dozed off.
Duo reaches out to me. "You alright, buddy?" He asks. I sigh and shake my head.
"I'll be fine." I stood and went upstairs to my room, closing and locking the door behind me.
I sat on my bed and pulled out an old book. It was brown with leather binding and a hard cover. Inside were my thoughts. All from before, during and after the wars.
I opened up to the entry about the little girl. I let my fingers drift over the crinkled flower I had laminated to the page.
I killed that girl and her dog. It IS my fault. Something wet dripped from my chin to the protective casing over the flower.
Confused, I touched it and then my cheek. I was crying. I didn't think I could cry anymore. I'm not supposed to cry. I'm a boy, the perfect soldier... A murderer. But... Murderers don't feel guilt and remorse, do they?
I squeeze my eyes shut and pull the book tight to my chest. My shoulders shook as I finally just let the dam break. Tears flowed quickly down my face and I could hear my own broken sobs.