I'VE KILLED...

By: Ariadna

...
I've killed.
Part of the job, my father used to say. There's nothing we can do but try our best.
Because my father didn't try his best I'm here now. He went off to Australia, I went after him. He died. I ended up in a plane crash.
I tried my best with the marshall, too. But he died. I killed him.
My father always said I wasn't right for the job. He thought the killing would eat me alive. The guilt would eat me alive.
It didn't.
I've learned now that there's more in a kill than guilt. Than hate. Is the necessity. The will of survival.
I only wonder if that's enough to excuse it. If that's enough... to let it go.
To do it again.

...
I've killed.
Hard times, hard methods. Religion will save you. If we die is for a reason.
Excuses.
I've carried those deaths with me since forever. I'm used to them. I cannot change the past.
I had hopes to change the future. I don't know anymore.
In war you deal with people who want to reduce you, just as much as you want to reduce them.
When did life on this island became war itself?
I wonder what will happen as time goes by. I see red. Bloody red.
Will I stay calm? Will I lose control of myself again?
I need me to get us off this island. I need to get away from the war.
It's catching up.

...
I've killed.
I'm hunted by it every minute. I killed the man I loved.
And I'm afraid. To let myself vulnerable again. To let others in.
To be in that position again.
It's so hard, in this place, after all that has happened...
I want to escape.
I've been running for such a long time. I can't stay here and lose practice on it.
The nightmare is real. I feel it in every breathe. But now I don't have a place to run away.
It's scary. To have attachments again. To be taken care of by others.
To picture their faces of disappointment when the time comes to betray them.
Because it will come. That's just the way it is.
Peace never last long. Not around me.

...
I've killed.
I know everybody points me as the badass, so of course I've killed.
I like them thinking that way. For once, they are right.
The only thing is... I killed the wrong man. An innocent man.
I shot the wrong man.
I let myself believe I would find closure in killing. In killing the right man.
Now I will never know.
I tried to find closure killing another man, letting the marshall free of his suffering.
I couldn't do that one right, either.
I can live with it, no problem. Shit happens.
Happiness is overrated. That's what I tell myself at night.
But... The memories don't go away.
Shit happens. Shit always happens. It's just a matter of when it will happen again.

...
I've killed.
I think... It wouldn't have been so terrible if so many people hadn't watched me killing him.
He deserved to die. I had to protect them all.
They just don't understand. They pity me. They worry about me. But they don't understand.
I've done so many stupid things in my life... This is not one of them.
It doesn't matter how guilty I feel.
Yeah, I've killed. But he was more of a thing than a person. He was going to hurt everybody. He told me so.
He was going to hurt her. Again.
And he killed me first.
The memories are blurry but I know from first hand experience what he was capable of.
I had to kill him. I had to. I had to.
I will keep telling myself that. Is the only way for me to believe it's true.
And if he is to rise from the dead, I'm gonna do it again. I have to. I need to.
I need him to be dead instead of me.

...