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nowhere to run anymore, nowhere to go anymore, he walked along that abandoned trail, the one he swore to the god he didn't believe he would never set foot on again, not after last year, he was still grieving, he never even got to tell them sorry, he still blamed himself, he shouldn't have yelled so loud and said so many things, now they'll never know he didn't meant them, that he would stay awake at night dreaming of the life they might have had together.
He got insomnia soon after his death, Vivey always said it would get easier, that days would go by and he would slowly stop beating himself up, but it hadn't, it'd almost been two years now, the ground was covered in dead leaves and the trees looked like they suffered more then him, he had been staring up at that same tree for God who knows how long, when he finally snapped out of his thoughts his fingers felt frozen, but he really didn't care, he kept walking.
The crunch of the leaves under his feet made his stomach turn, it made him think of bones cracking, of how painful their death must have been, it almost made him want to stop right there and vomit, the image of their body still fresh in his mind. He covered his mouth, feeling as though he might throw up right there, but he knew he wouldn't, if he did it'd be water and saliva, he didn't eat enough for it to be anything else, even if he did eat he'd throw up right after from gulit.
He stopped in his tracks, realizing where he was, did he really walk all the way here without knowing it ? he knew he passed that god forsaken tree, but that was still some ways from this stupid shack. He hugged himself tightly, remembering when he came looking for them, seeing this shack lit up from inside, finding what he found, there was still old police tape on it, some graffiti too, 'God's sacrifice' with Devil written over God, somehow them being God's sacrifice is better then the Devil's, even though he hated God and all that bullshit, he hated being called The Devil's Servant more, especially because people said he killed them, he was suspected at one point, but nothing came of it, and he was cleared, but that didn't change anything to some people.
He opened the door, having to use some force, taking a deep breath and ramming his elbow into it, it fell down, and when he exhaled he could see his own breath, sighing and rubbing his elbow lightly, he stepped in, the floorboards creaking loudly under his weight, he looked around, it make him feel so sick, like his guts were twisting inside him, he could still see some dried blood on the wall. He could almost feel the warmth of the candles, but it was gone, replaced with an overbearing feeling, one hard to describe with words, he hugged himself tightly, hunching over slightly, his knees feeling weak, he couldn't even hold himself for much longer before dropping to his knees, he wanted to cry out, maybe call for help, or just sob, but when he tried to speak he coughed, and he coughed, through his blurry vision he could see the droplets of blood on the old wooden floor. He hunched over completely, holding himself almost painfully tight, but he was too weak to even hold himself.
All he thought was about dying in the same spot that they did, maybe he'd see them in heaven, maybe he'd get to say sorry, get to hold them again, maybe he would get to live with them, doesn't even matter if it was in heaven or hell. That's all he thought about before his vision slowly faded to black, and the thud of his body falling over onto the wooden floor was muted by the buzzing in his ears.