User blog:Niellepuffs/(Malcolm) It's like I need you

I keep trying to tell myself he was doomed the moment he got involved with those guys, that I couldn't be expected to be there for him all day every day.

But there was a time when he could count on me being there all day every day.

And it's all my fault. I was the one who snitched. He just happened to be there when I tried to do the right thing. All he wanted was to be part of the gang.

Why does doing the right thing always seem to get good people killed? Maybe there's no such thing as the right thing.

And the revenge was just so... hollow. Solves nothing.

Why did I decide the city was more important than my friend? And the people who were rescued will never even know how close they were to death.

It's still hard to believe he's gone. I keep expecting him to show up in the middle of some mess or other for me to get him out of.

And I keep seeing things on the backs of my eyelids. Imagination is a curse. Every time I think about it, I get sick.

It's a nice idea, learning to read, but it's hard to focus now.