Mark

It was made up of peaks and troughs, his life. But mainly troughs. Like the ones used to feed pigs: messy; giving off a stink. He wondered what it would have been like if he'd been born to someone else, but then, he supposed then he wouldn't be him. Mark wasn't a deep thinker but he recognised thinking about what could have been didn't do any good.

Didn't stop him doing it though.

And it was the "what ifs" that sent him on that spiral into dark places which he struggled to come back from. Who was he kidding? He was always in darkness; just sometimes it was a lighter shade of black than others.

The biggest "what if" though was "What if you hadn't pushed Laney that day?" This was the one that was like a hand, keeping him under. He laughed to himself at this analogy. Appropriate considering... Instantly, he felt guilty for laughing and tears filled his eyes. He gulped them back.

Laney. He looks back and keeps telling himself that he was just a kid. Just a kid! Had he meant to hurt that day? If he looked into the recesses of his heart where the truth lay brooding, he would see that the answer was "Yes". And so, it was a fait accompli. But, if he asked himself the question, "Did I want to kill her that day?", the answer would be an emphatic "No". Teach her a lesson? Take the smile off her face? Punish her for being so fucking great all of the time? Transfer some of his hurt to someone else? If those were the questions, then yes, he would hold his hands up to those no matter how much they pinched him to admit. He could live with the discomfort that they gave him in his core. He could manage those emotions.

But he couldn't manage knowing that his actions that day killed someone he loved.

It was like a cancer that wouldn't relent. You fought and fought through unbearable pain until it felt like it was conquered.

But no. Always there. Lurking.

The only thing to do was kill it.

And so, that's what he did.

***

366 words

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