I have to make sure no one ever knows the truth about what happened.
They would take all of it away.
Everything I have worked for. Almost died for. Sacrificed my freedom for, my blood and sweat for.
That will never happen. I will never let it happen, even if it means eliminating all that dare question further my honesty, and my intentions.
As I kiss him, my mind comes up with a question so twisted that with a breathy startle, I pull back. He looks at me, worries in his eyes, and before I can even let him ask me what is wrong, I kiss him again, with full renewed energy and passion.
Perhaps to draw my mind away from the now plaguing my question, or more … my conscience.
Deep down, I have always struggled with my conscience, not knowing why I love some things like I do. Why I am more comfortable in the ways of life I try to convince myself are wicked, immoral, and not at all healthy for a normal person.
