The wind blows my hair. I’m standing on

The edge again.

With Micheal down their, with bloodstains on his hands.

I can’t believe I did it, I killed Micheal.

As the sunset came, the light started to leave but my wet face became solid. Memories flooding my mind, the redness of his dark metallic blood hardening on me by the minute. The wind blowing my obsidian curls.

The weapon still in my hand,...