Someone Else’s Guilt

day 5/30

I woke up with something alive beneath my skin. It wasn’t pain, not exactly. It was guilt, thick and humming, whispering names I didn’t know. It moved when I breathed, like it was trying to find its way out. I tried to wash it away. I stood under cold water until my fingers turned blue. I prayed, but the words came out shaking, not mine.

By evening, I started to see what it wanted me to remember. A room with red walls. A man on the floor. My hands shaking around something sharp. His eyes still open, staring at me. I told myself it wasn’t me. That I was just dreaming someone else’s nightmare. But guilt doesn’t care about truth. It only wants a body to live in.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The whispering got louder. It said, You know now. You did this. Finish it.

So I did. I walked to the window and let the night swallow me whole. For a moment, I thought it would be over. That the guilt would die with me.

But now you know. You’ve seen what I saw. You’ve read my words. It’s under your skin now. Do you feel it? The weight in your chest that wasn’t there before?

That’s how it begins.