65. I swear

When I come to my senses, the room is bathed in a mortuary silence. There is a faint beeping of a heart monitor somewhere in the background and nothing else. Fog clouds my eyes, but not my mind.

I know exactly where I am and why I am here. My body is slightly numb and somewhere deep inside of my pelvis, there is a dull ache that makes me realize I have not died, that I was still very much alive and everything has been real.

I bring my hand up in front of my eyes and stare at them. There was no more blood staining them, but no matter how clean they were, they still felt dirty. Guilt has been etched inside of my heart and I could simply not shake it off.

Tears swell in my eyes and I cover my face with both my hands, holding my sobs in as I bite down on my tongue, to subside the overwhelming emotions.

I hear the door open and despite all the efforts to remain calm, I tense and peer through my fingers at the person who steps in. The room is bathed in a cold dim light and I can see that