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