It was dark inside my heart, yet harm was the furthest thing from my intent. It was a reluctant sin, a necessary evil. I wanted to be wrong so bad. A warm golden light burned through my chest as I made my way to the bedroom. My hands were tree branches in the wind and my legs struggled to keep me up. A runway of perfectly polished wood led the way to my inevitable misdeed. I spectated every action as if I wasn’t in control of my body. One step after another, I regretted my presumptions. I entertained the dark thoughts in my head and shut out the doubts. “Consequences are merely a construct. Life is hardly meaningful. I don’t feel real.”, I whispered to myself. These would be the last words I spoke before everything changed.


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