Tainted | Teen Ink

Tainted

November 7, 2012
By Sambee GOLD, Frederick, Maryland
Sambee GOLD, Frederick, Maryland
10 articles 10 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
A woman is the only thing I am afraid of that I know will not hurt me. -Abraham Lincoln


I can still remember the thrills, the chills that had run down my spine when I had done it.
Standing on a rooftop only a mere two stories off the ground, my breath dry, my nose biting the wind in the bitter cold, but I felt nothing but the warmth of freedom.
Of finally being rid of... him.
He had been cruel, what I had done was justice, not a crime.
Even now the sight of red creeping out of the lifeless body and dying the pure white snow around it makes me happy.
The person who had once abused me, the one who had tormented me and the reason for all my pain; he was gone.
People around him are running, probably screaming but I cannot hear them, my ears fell deaf a long time ago.
The relief I had begged for had come, the happiness bathed me in my own light.
All the women he had killed would now be free, just as I was.
But soon that happiness faded and the realization of what I had done settles in.
There is no warm glow, that is not red tainting pure white, that is blood tainting the snow as a man bleeds out beneath me.
But he is gone, he is dead; my moment of happiness is gone and now I am... Empty?
I was never given a purpose, so what do I do now?
I turned and slowly walked to the other side of the building, this drop is steeper as there is a hill beneath it.
The ground here seems inviting, as though hitting it is my soul purpose now.
It would kill me, when I hit the ground it would be over.
They will come for me and take me to prison, after all I murdered a man.
I do not want to live in prison, and I have no reason to run.
I closed my eyes and stepped over the ledge.
The winds rushes past, biting my skin before a moment of pain and then nothing.
Darkness, even now there is nothing but darkness, only the memories of the horrible things he had done, the planning I did to rid myself of him, and then his dead body lying two stories below me.
After all that, I am left with nothing but emptiness.
Was it worth it? Could it have ended differently?
He committed crimes and sins, I guess it tainted me as well; but it was I who committed my sins, my crimes, and after that there is nothing left.


The author's comments:
We say victims have a right to be justified, but how far does that justice go?

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