Years went by.his life went on, but things could never be the same. He
was left with only himself after that night. He went to court, and was
set free; they knew it was an accident. All his friends comforted him,
everything was forgiven. No one held it against him. He killed
someone, someone he was supposed to love, and he knew he was left with
that for the rest of his life.
He sometimes wondered, "Was it really an accident?" He knew it was her when she came in the door that night, he would never admit it, but he did. Something in him made him fill up with anger when he saw her walk in. He wanted to save the day, he wanted to be the hero, but how could he when there wasn't any danger. He felt horrible the moment he did it, he knew she would not survive.
After that, he and Jill went out for a few months, but he never had a lasting relationship again. He ruined himself, and he knew it. Every woman he was near after that, all he saw was Alana. He saw her everywhere. Perhaps, she was haunting him, or maybe he was haunting himself, he was not sure. Her image, in everything. His coffee in the morning, his food at dinner, the shows he watched at night, she was everywhere.
He lived for twenty more years after Alana's death, and he lived them alone. His guilt ate him alive. While at Claire's house one evening, Alana came up, and one of Claire's children, now in her late teens, asked about her. She asked how she died, what exactly happened. Chris told the whole story, about how he cheated on her, about how she came home that night, about how he killed her, and he knew it was her.
No one knew what to say. He was a murderer, though; it obviously hurt him deep inside that he did it. He told Claire, her kids, and her husband how much they all meant to him. They were all he had left. After that, he stood up, and walked out of the house to his car, and drove away. He stopped at a gas station on the highway, thinking about her all the way there. He parked the car and got out. He walked into the convenience shop area of the station and went into the bathroom.
Later that night, while the employees were cleaning up, one of them went in to clean up the bathroom, and found him there. He had slit his wrists wi9th his money clip. It took several hours for him to bleed to death, but no one bothered to check on him. He wrote a note and left it on his chest as he lay bleeding. It read:
Dear Claire, I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry.
It had a phone number on it. They left that to the police, and they took his body away. Claire was called, and there was a funeral. All of his old friends were there, they all cried for him, but after a few months he was forgotten, just like the rest. The last twenty years of his life was a sad story, but we try not to look at that part of it, we try to stay focus on the events before this. All the good he did, everyone he helped. He led a good life, and was a good man.
He sometimes wondered, "Was it really an accident?" He knew it was her when she came in the door that night, he would never admit it, but he did. Something in him made him fill up with anger when he saw her walk in. He wanted to save the day, he wanted to be the hero, but how could he when there wasn't any danger. He felt horrible the moment he did it, he knew she would not survive.
After that, he and Jill went out for a few months, but he never had a lasting relationship again. He ruined himself, and he knew it. Every woman he was near after that, all he saw was Alana. He saw her everywhere. Perhaps, she was haunting him, or maybe he was haunting himself, he was not sure. Her image, in everything. His coffee in the morning, his food at dinner, the shows he watched at night, she was everywhere.
He lived for twenty more years after Alana's death, and he lived them alone. His guilt ate him alive. While at Claire's house one evening, Alana came up, and one of Claire's children, now in her late teens, asked about her. She asked how she died, what exactly happened. Chris told the whole story, about how he cheated on her, about how she came home that night, about how he killed her, and he knew it was her.
No one knew what to say. He was a murderer, though; it obviously hurt him deep inside that he did it. He told Claire, her kids, and her husband how much they all meant to him. They were all he had left. After that, he stood up, and walked out of the house to his car, and drove away. He stopped at a gas station on the highway, thinking about her all the way there. He parked the car and got out. He walked into the convenience shop area of the station and went into the bathroom.
Later that night, while the employees were cleaning up, one of them went in to clean up the bathroom, and found him there. He had slit his wrists wi9th his money clip. It took several hours for him to bleed to death, but no one bothered to check on him. He wrote a note and left it on his chest as he lay bleeding. It read:
Dear Claire, I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry.
It had a phone number on it. They left that to the police, and they took his body away. Claire was called, and there was a funeral. All of his old friends were there, they all cried for him, but after a few months he was forgotten, just like the rest. The last twenty years of his life was a sad story, but we try not to look at that part of it, we try to stay focus on the events before this. All the good he did, everyone he helped. He led a good life, and was a good man.