• If only I could go back. Back to that soft green feild Chris and I found only not to long ago. I'd go back and tell him it was okay. I would tell him I forgave him. For everything. Instead of pulling that damn trigger and hearing the bang of the bullet. Instead of watching it go through his chest. Instead of hearing the voice with the English accent I loved so much whisper my name one more time. Instead of watching that one, small lone tear fall down the cheeks on the face that I saw every night in my dreams. Instead of watching him sink to his knees and then looking, no...staring at the contrast between his chesnut brown hair and the soft green of the grass with the small purple flowers.

    He'd pick those flowers for me everytime we went before. The sweet smelling, smal, purple flowers. But I won't get those anymore. Because the one I loved is dead. And all because of my stupid act. The act of pulling my father's gun from the hollister on my belt and shooting him before he could explain anything and everything. Before he or I had the chance to take one another in each other's arms and tell one another we loved each other.

    Because of the day him and I had been there, by coincedence. The day where the sky was a light blue with the cotton clouds. The day the earth stood still and two things ended. My world and his life. It had taken me a moment or so after I realised what I done. After the echoing of the gun's bang had resided, there was no sound.

    At least for a minute. That's when I heard it. The sobbing that I wasn't sure exactly where it was coming from. Until I felt it, the lump in my throat then I knew for certain it was my sobbing. The sobbing that desturbed the silent forest.