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Dexter
She looks even more beautiful in death. Like an angel.
Pure, innocent and so tragic, the pain claws at my heart and replaces the love that once filled it with the emptiness I deserve.
I did this.
I killed my sister.
I will never forgive myself.
I physically ache to reach and touch the porcelain skin that has turned a deathly gray. There is no life left in those eyes that have been closed to give the appearance she’s just sleeping. She will never wake up. I made sure of that and the nervous glances my way tell me they feel it too. I murdered my own sister and I will burn in Hell for eternity.
“Dexter.”
A brief touch to my arm reminds me I’m not alone and there are more deserving members of my family who want to pay their respects. I can’t even look them in the eye knowing the grief in them was placed there by my own hand.
I move away.
As I walk from the casket, my life changes forever. Somehow, I make it through the service and I hear the cries, letting them wash over me like a wave of blood. I killed my sister and if I can do anything to make amends, it’s vowing never to make the same mistake again.
From this day on, the rules I set in place must never be broken and I will make it my life’s work to uphold them. I may have caused this, but the pain I will live with forever will serve as a permanent reminder never to act in a moment of rage.
Emotion led to an act of revenge that backfired in the cruelest of ways and I won’t make the same mistake twice. From now on I live by emotionless control and pack my broken heart away as surplus to requirements. I won’t love and I won’t accept love in return. Dexter Prince may as well have died that day, it would have better if he had.
