Guilt


[A/N: This is like a monologue/vignette, and it is not prose without punctuation. I know how to use my periods, commas, semicolons, colons, etc. Happy now? And don't spam me for it. And that includes you too, NARF! I swear I will kill you if you spam this fic, damn you.]

You can never get rid of guilt.
It hangs over you, hanging there with every move you take.
It's not a ghost. It's worse than a ghost. It's your own conscience.
It haunts you, with every step you take.
You look at the carefree, happy, guiltless people and become even more depressed.
Depressed until you can't stand it anymore, driven to the very verge of insanity.
And I'm not talking about those insane people you see, giggling and laughing like idiots.
I'm talking about that deep, deep, emotionless insanity that drives you to either death or murder.

On the news, you hear about those people who murder because of hatred.
They're wrong. It was insanity.
They had a deep, deep, obsession about something that only they will know.
A terrible thing it is, guilt.
Sometimes people become insane over a long period of time, not knowing it's there.
It becomes like a splinter wedged in your skin, a small piece of wood wedged in a crack.
Splitting it apart, slowly, ever so slowly, that you don't notice it.
Until it's too late.

That's what I think is happening to me. A deep obsession, growing, growing, and I can't stop it.
I can only watch it as it takes over my actions, my thoughts, myself.
Cowering in a small corner of my brain, watching it control me.
Even enjoying myself.
But how can that be?


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