If time weren't frozen, he was sure it would be raining.
Where was the rain to wash away the blood? To clean his sins.
The blood stood still, hanging from his hands, making him relive the moment over and over again.
He covered his face with his hands, unable to look at the sight anymore, just for it to drip on his lip. Its metallic taste, he was very familiar with, yet it was different from his own.
It was like a venom in his veins, making him bleed internally.
He gritted his teeth slightly before letting go, before detaching himself from the grief, binding him by his arms and legs. Only for a slight second.
The death of someone you trust is horrid, but if you let your emotions get the hang of you, then your soul will truly never rest.
You either give it up, accept things, and go on to the next stage, putting the soul of the person you lost to rest.
Or you go down the rabbit hole that is grief.
...
How much he wished to choose the former.
