All it is now but a distant past. Left behind, buried and untold to many.

Memories are scattered, and foreign. Any lingering remnants of the horror are on the verge of waning from the minds of the witnesses.

While they live their lives in such oblivion, I relive the atrocity that refuses to leave. The fear that prevails even after their demise, the deafening silence that ensured and the rustiness permeating the air, still haunts me in my dreams.

I do not wish to be reminded of the grotesque, I do not wish to be retold as the monster that I've been. I do not wish to be someone with such sin that would make every waking moment into a living hell.

I wish to be free, and I await the day when it would eventually come to an end and I could shut my eyes to see nothing at all but a life with ample joy and peace.