Sunday, February 12, 2012

Car’s dead. The belt snapped. I replaced it last month. No such thing as coincidence. I’m out of town now. I’m isolated. I’m alone. There’s a forest to one side, open field on the other. Something’s moving in the trees. The field it is.

No use hiding my story now. Now that I’m dead.

I tried to be a hero. I tried so hard. I never made it off the ground. Too many people. Too many problems. It was all bigger than me. It’s bigger than any of us. I tried. I failed. I got people killed.

All this blood on my hands.

No one wants a failed hero. I was ashamed. I stopped updating. Better gone than derided. No point making a spectacle of myself.

I didn’t save anyone. I just got them killed. I never even got to New York.

I’m sorry, Annabel. I’m sorry, everyone. I’m sorry I couldn’t help.

It’s so cold. The wind is harsh. I don’t know where I’m running to now. I’m just running.

Wish I could just stop.

1 comment:

  1. I would have preferred a failed hero than a dead one. Too late now, I suppose.