Inhale.

Exhale.

I can't even look at her body.

I feel like I'm drowning; suffocating in the knowledge that **_I'm_** the reason she's dead.

It's my fault.

My fault.

My—

I want to scream, to cry, to do anything besides stand here like a statue.

But I can't bring myself to move.

There aren't any words, nor sounds, that can describe the sinking feeling in my chest, the way my heart is tearing itself apart.

So I stay silent.