“And you think that's gonna change anything? You think it'll bring her back to life? In what kind of world do you live in?! She's dead and nothing will change it!”
“So why would killing another person will make life better?”
“You don't understand! She would be alive if it wasn't for you! She'd be sitting right next to me, reading, watching TV, being there! Not lying dead on the street, being photographed by the police! And why do you deserve life more than her? She never did harm to anybody! And what are you? A stupid little teenager, who can't wait until he's sober again to drive! No, you had to take that car!”
I know he's right, of course he's right, but what am I supposed to do? I already feel guilty, desperate, devastated, it would take me hours to list every single feeling! What is he thinking? That I'm not gonna miss her? That I'll live happily ever after without thinking about her? Ha, that would be great, wouldn't it? But I won't forget! Never. It will be in my mind every day, every minute, every second of my life! What kind of life is that supposed to be? “You know, you can kill me, if you want to”, I tell him. “It won't make any difference. But It will make a difference to my family, my parents, my sister. They are going to suffer from something that I have done. They are not responsible for anything of this. And neither are you – but you're gonna waste the rest of your life in jail, thinking about the biggest mistake of your life. Do you really want that?” Slowly he lowers the gun and looks at me. His gaze has changed, it's not longer angry, it's just sad. Desperate maybe, but mostly filled with grief. “Get out of here” he whispers. I slowly stand up. “Get outta here! Leave my house and never come back!” his voice is getting louder and louder, he picks up a chair and throws it after me. I run to the door, as fast as I can and slam it behind me. As I feel the cold air on my face I can here the policemen shouting, the neighbours crying and the lights blinking. What have I done?