It wasn’t hard to walk away. She simply placed one foot in front of the other and didn’t look back.
For some, it would’ve been impossible. The guilt would destroy them: they’d slit their wrists or hang themselves. Others would go mad: the carnage and the screaming would lead them to gauge out their eyes and rip off their ears.
But not her. She had the one thing that would help her persevere: a souvenir. It was tattered and bloody, but as long as she held it, she’d move forward, step by step.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.05 seconds at 5:19am on Nov 23, 2024 via server WEBX1.