"you shouldn't of broke my heart," i said, and smiled as he screamed in agony.
i left him just like that, on the ground, hands covered in blood.
my hands were covered in blood, too. i wiped them on my jacket and threw it into a trash bin.
i strutted down the street, feeling better than ever. no one knew what i had done. no one would ever find out. i felt strong.
2 months later.
i was smoking weed in my motel room with the guys. no big deal, the manager joined in sometimes too. just a normal thing.
i can't really describe what happened. it went kinda fast. the door crashed open and i heard someone yell
"hands above your heads!"
i was too high to realize it was the cops. i just put my hands over my head.
they grabbed all three of us and pulled us into a car. thats when i passed out.
a year later.
they found him dead in the alley. they also found my jacket. i was guilty.
they didn't know the pain i felt. if they did, i would of been free.
so i'll just keep trying to escape from the death sentence. no big deal. changed my name already. got some surgery.
things will be better.
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