He was very friendly, infectiously enthusiastic and just an all-around fun guy. I won't lie in saying I envied him. One day, something happened. Something that I think I should not have been a part of. But perhaps I was. Something not good. Something to him.
I didn't see him a few days after the event. But then, he emerged. And never seems to leave me alone. Always wishing me well. Helping me in every turn of fate that puts me down. Being there for me when no-one else is.
I don't deserve him. One day, I take his life. But he reappears a minute later. Every time I kill him, he just slows down by a minute in his emergence. All I know is vindictive rage when I get rid of him. But it seems to never empty. When I finally killed him enough to have a day of peace, I realise.
He was my guilt. And he exists as long as I don't forgive myself. I am a good person, I just didn't accept it.
Minds make what they want to see, I think.