The rest of the night had melded together into a collage of frozen moments, played over and over again through my mind in the guise of a nightmare. I don't remember driving home, or even climbing into bed. I just know that I am not ok. My body feels unhinged from my soul, I can feel the stinging sensation of uncleaned cuts on my hands and knees. This is what I use to remind myself that this was real. I wasn't insane, at least not yet, though I was unprepared to face the rest of my life. The afterwards, that is all that comes now. There are moments in life that are so pivotal, they become the cornerstones of your life, and that is where I am at now...and the foundation I build from that single block feels tainted and different from the rest, and because of it I am not sure how to add it in, or whether or not it will hold.

I know I should get up, I can see the sunlight through my eyelids, normally that would have made me smile. I loved sleeping in, the window faced the rising sun and when it hit just right it was so warm and comforting. I find strength in that normal thought, that remembrance of who I was, and I use it to open my eyes. I realised quickly that it was a stupid thing to have done, the light burned my eyes and I closed them again quickly with a groan. Stupid...stupid. Rolling over, I tried again, this time I see the spot on the other side of the bed...the spot where Cole should be. It is of course empty, the bed was a mess of dirt and grass stains though. Lifting the sheets I look at what I'd done, my cloths were the culprit, all manner of debris from the forest had clung to me, and as I looked, I realised not all of that was mud. The memory of Cole rubbing my face with blood suddenly came lurching forward and I lept out of the bed, tangling my foot in the sheets as I did so. I nearly face planted into the floor, but caught myself just barely with my hands. Rolling onto my back, I kicked the blankets off my foot and laid there a moment, breathing heavily.

A few moments passed, and I sat up and walked towards the bathroom, I knew there was a large mirror in there, and I didn't really want to see myself. I never wanted to have this image of myself trapped in my mind. I quickly grabbed some clothes from my dresser and went into the bathroom, stripping the dirty cloths off and being careful not to look at the mirror. I remained in the shower for probably an hour, resulting in very raw skin. I'd scrubbed every inch wildly, trying to remove the evidence of that dead woman, as well as the pain and fear I still felt. The former came off, the latter just seemed to reveal new feelings...anger, and acceptance, neither of which felt good.

I resigned to trying to fit into acceptance. I am now dressed in a black v-neck with blue Jeans, and a mop of messy wet hair. I stand there looking around the bedroom, trying to figure out if I should call him, or just wait. I could still recall his face when I'd thrown the gun..and I didn't want to fuck more of this situation up than I already had. On that thought, I quickly gathered up the bedding, including the pillows and stuffed them in a large garbage back. I needed to get rid of all of that now too. I looked around, hoping I hadn't left blood anywhere else, and thankfully it seemed I'd bee lined for the bed when I'd gotten home last night. Feeling dizzy, I sat on the foot of the bed and rested my head in my hands. I wished Cole would hurry, I needed him here...I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep this "acceptance" up, I was beginning to spiral again, I could feel it.

Before I could fall apart, I heard the door suddenly being unlocked and followed by it being slammed. Carson! I hear Cole's voice, but I don't move, I simply look up at the doorway and wait. It's only a moment before I see him rushing into the room, he is obviously in a state of panic, his face stricken pale. My mind floods with images of things that could have gone wrong...maybe the police were on their way? I know my eyes are already beginning to water, my hands tremble a little and I look away from him, and stare at the floor. His words at least confirm why he'd been so scared, and I shake my head slowly. "What? That I'd left?" I was caught off guard by the fact my truck wasn't where it ought to be, and I honestly had no idea what I'd done with it at this point, I was a complete train wreck. I forced myself to look up at Cole, and I sighed with a look of defeat. "Everything go...ok?" How does one go about asking if the other had an OK time hiding a body, cleaning up a murder scene, and retrieving the weapon? I wasn't really sure. "I need to watch more mafia movies." A joke? It's delivered with no humor, flat and uncomfortable. I really am trying...I am trying for us...for Cole, for the future.