With No Memories and Pain

With No Memories and Pain

Memories. Oh how they haunted him. Unceasingly. Glimpses of a past he has tried to forget, tried to bury dead in the furthest corners of his mind. A past that the memories kept alive. He wanted to end it, put a stop to the hurt and the pain, to float endlessly without thought, without memory. But he knew he couldn’t. He needed to stay in this world, to right those wrongs his head reminded him of. But how? How can you give back a brother, a friend, a husband and a father? He could not turn back time, however much he closed his eyes and tried. “It was an accident.” He sobbed to himself. “I didn’t mean it, I had to do it. I had to.” But nothing could make those haunting eyes go away, eyes that accused, eyes that asked, why? Even in those memories, he could see his reflection in the man’s eye. He could see himself lift the gun, cold, hard. Death in the flesh. He could see the life draining out of those eyes, replayed over and over again. Haunting him, reminding him of what he had done, who pulled that trigger. He just wanted to go. To float in the void, with no memories and pain, forever.