Remorse: Intro

Tired, as I was, I crawled out of bed to greet the merciless sun that was creeping through the curtains. My ears were still ringing quietly. Sirens still singing softly in the distance. Images, sounds; sensations from last night all flooded my mind to torment me again. I sat on the edge of my bed just taking the time to breathe it all in, but the air, fresh and new, was too much for my aching chest to handle. With a sigh of exasperation, I crawled off the bed and strolled down the hall. I shoved open the door, and flipped the light switch on. The light was temporarily blinding, and the man that greeted me from the wall above the sink was not exactly the man that I wanted to see at this hour. But he wouldn’t go away, even after I washed my face. He just glared at me, condescendingly, and I couldn’t bring myself to face him.
“Reed Morris, you idiot!” his voiced panged throughout the spaces of my mind. “How could you?!” The stillness of his face accentuated his disappointment. And under his glance I remained silent. There was no sufficient excuse, no perfect answer that would satisfy him. He just continued to gaze into my saddened face. My inability to feel his pain elicited from him a sigh, and a shaking of his head. And then he stepped out of the room.
“All those dead people, Reed, their blood is on your hands!” He would not leave me alone. He just kept in stride with my silhouette, screaming all the time. “You knew they would die! You knew what was coming and you did nothing! How could you, Reed? How could you remain silent with that kind of knowledge?” My legs shook beneath me, and the wall was my only support. I crashed into the wall, blocking out the voices and just trying to collect my thoughts.

* * * * *

I remember running down the street, away from that mysterious man, away from that god-forsaken town, away from my fears. Then it happened. The ground shook, the buildings swayed, after that deafening boom which left my ears ringing. Fire poured from within the skyscrapers, out into the gunmetal night. The shrieks, the screams, penetrating my ears, drowning out my sanity--as all those innocent people came raining down onto the pavement, just like that man said they would.

* * * * *

“You could have stopped it Reed! Why do you think that the man told you all that stuff about ‘buildings shaking’ and ‘fire falling down to the streets seamlessly with blood?’ It was just all random! The man was crazy! Sounded like a logical argument! Didn’t it, Reed? But you knew the truth, Reed! You knew he was serious and you said nothing!”
“What was I supposed to do? What could I have done to stop any of that, that madness? That bloodshed? There was nothing that I could do!” All those thoughts. All those bodies. All those faces. The screaming. The fire. The faces. The blood. That cruel, cruel man. This has got to stop.”

* * * * *

Reed got up in his blinding rage, and guided by his racing mind, he stormed out to the kitchen. He ripped open the top drawers, spilling papers and envelopes all over the cold, kitchen floor. He dug through the mess until he found the piece that he was looking for, and in one swift motion he pulled the gun to his left temple. And then a shot rang throughout the house. And silence poured out of the gun; into the rooms, hallways, expanses of Reed Morris’s quiet, little apartment.