Michael is
What I remember about Michael is that he was always alone. And what else?
Why he was always alone ?
Why don't I remember anything else about him?
He was my friend, even if it was only for a year.
Were we friends?
I didn't know he was an orphan until the teacher called his aunt.
Did his parents die, or did they abandon him? Was he treated well by his aunt?
Why didn't I ask? Did I ask? Did I forget?
Why? Why?
Damn it, why are they doing this to him?
Michael was a beautiful child, and I never once thought he was hateful.
kind Michael was beautiful. How? Why?
I didn't know any human being could do what I saw.
The shock was so intense that time seemed to stop.
I couldn't hear the sounds around me clearly, as if the world was covered in a thick layer of silence. My heart was pounding, and my body felt heavy, unable to move.
I tried to understand what had happened, but my thoughts collided haphazardly, each one ending in emptiness.
I felt a chill run through my limbs, and something inside me broke, something that would never be the same again.
At that moment, I didn't cry or scream; I just stared at the phone for a long time as if I'd lost the ability to feel anything except the weight of the truth.
I looked and watched clips from all over the years.
Damn it, he was so young.
He was just so young, how could they do that to him?
Damn them, how could they?
How?
I tried calling Michael, but he didn't answer.
I sent a message hoping he'd call me back.
Damn it, my mistake was no less than theirs. I'm the one who handed him over.
Damn it, damn it.
Michael.
From his aunt to his new parents.
Damn it, how many of them were there?
Damn it, why did they do that to him?
Just why?
I started crying until my chest burned.
I didn't know I could cry like this.
I didn't even cry when my father died.
But I always cried when I thought about Michael and my sin.
Damn it, I have so much to say.
I want to apologize, but I don't think an apology will do any good.
Should I give him the knife?
Michael, what do I do now that I know what happened?
What do you want from me?
Is this what you wanted?
He showed me
A wound that won't heal easily, and perhaps never will.
It was a mistake whose weight I bear.
I wanted to say I'm sorry,
Not to ease my own pain, but because confession is the least I can do in the face of what I caused him.
But he didn't give me a chance.