The cigarette dangled loosely between his fingers. A steady stream of smoke rose into the cool night air, begging for attention, begging for the embers to glow a warm red as he inhaled. But it remained propped between his fingers, never entering his lungs. He wasn't trying to quit. In fact, smoke in his lungs was always a comfort, but tonight he wasn't looking for comfort. Tonight didn't feel worthy.
"I guess it's done."
"I guess so."
"Just that simple."
Another silence fell between the pair sitting in the dark. There wasn't much left to say. How could there be after what they had done? They watched it happen as if they were spectators, but it was in fact their hands that did the deed.
The more he thought about it, the faster his heart seemed to pound, bringing an overwhelming sensation back into his numbed body. Did it really happen? His hands began trembling out of his control and the cigarette fell to the ground. His now free hand clenched his chest as if he were trying to reach inside with his fingers and stop the beating. Unable to break through the skin he began pounding his chest and before he could do anything else, he let out a painful cry and jumped to his feet. He didn't know what he was doing but he knew it needed to come out.
"It's ok, we did the right thing," his companion said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything. "We did the right thing." His quiet voice quavered and the tears erupted. He buried his face in his hands but he couldn't catch them all. Curled up on the wooden stairs he held his head to his knees and wailed.
Standing against the wall beside his weeping friend, the boy looked down at his hands. Even through his tears in the darkness they looked foreign to him. They felt foreign to him. How could they ever feel like his again? How could he claim what they had done?
In the darkness behind the building, the pair finally gripped the reality of their actions. They knew there would be consequences, but they were certain nothing could be worse than the grief and regret that they felt in that very moment.
"We can't tell the others," the boy said but his friend continued to sob. Anger rose so suddenly that he grabbed him by the hair and tore his head from his knees. He looked him dead in the eye. "Do you hear me?! We can't tell the others! Tell me you swear it! Tell me you swear it on your life!"
"I swear it! I swear it!"
Tears flowed even stronger and the boy slowly opened his fist, letting go of his friend's hair. The anger left and was just as quickly replaced with deep sadness. The pair embraced, holding onto each other as tightly as they would hold onto their secret, their cries rising up into the night like smoke.
