Washing Away My Guilt

Warning: Contains strong language

Washing Away My Guilt

I hate to admit it but I have cried before. It wasn’t because I flunked a school exam or was hit in the nuts by a football. Though that does fucking hurt.  I’m not a wimp after all. Give me some credit. I’m far stronger than that.

No, it was because my stunning Lucy got stabbed. Yes that’s right I’ve said it, fucking ripped to shreds. Satisfied are you? You can see how much it pains me to say it. Asides from those murderous cunts, I do feel partly responsible. Just before the brutal attack we had a fight. It was over something so insignificant. If it weren’t for me she wouldn’t have run off and died alone on the fucking pavement.

When I heard what happened to her I wanted to be shut off from the rest of the world. The kids playing outside my bedroom window bugged me to death. Those smiling sick bastards can rot in hell for all I care.

My mum of course checked up on me to see how I was coping. I can still remember what she said:
 “I know you’re upset but everything will be fine in the end. You’ll see Chickpea.”

Fucking chickpea? What the hell? I went crazy and started smashing up my room. I tore up a picture of me and Lucy at a nightclub. Too many tainted memories. 

My love fucking died on a stormy night in June just last year. The rain wiped away Lucy’s blood. If only tears could wash away my guilt.  

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