https://devotedtowriting.forumotion.com/t1069-daddy-dearest
After I disposed of his body, I walked most of the way back to the place I parked my car on the street I used to live on. So many thoughts going through my mind, but realizing something had...changed in me. Something...bad? I had...killed my father. I was the cause, I had tortured him...fed on him...yelled at him...threw him away like garbage. A part of me felt so horrible, but another part...relieved. The drive home I barely blinked, barley moved. I even placed a call to Vincent, speaking very blankly and showing no emotion. "Tell Quinn I'll see him in a few days, I have to do some things for my house." He understood and promised to pass the message. Unraveling pieces of myself as I thought about the events of tonight. He never knew, but he never asked or cared. Once I made it back to my place, I went upstairs. Some of the renovations had been made the only thing left to do was the safe and decorate with my own tastes. There were some furniture pieces but nothing that was...me.
I absentmindedly peeled off the blood soaked clothes and tossed them to the side. They had to be burned. Quinn...what would I tell him? Nothing...that's right...nothing. The water fell on my skin, for the first time I blinked and shook my head clearing my thoughts, somewhat bringing me back to reality. Looking down at my hands that were painted in his blood, I just stared at them. I stared at my red hands until the freezing cold water grabbed my attention. I felt different...odd. No feelings or remorse still, almost in shock. My faith always taught me to ask for forgiveness for my sins...and I did. I did before I killed him, before I knew what I'd do...before I let darkness take over.
I quickly cleaned my body and my hair, stepped out the shower and pulled the towel around me. This was the first night in a while I'd spent the night away from Quinn. I wondered if he believed my message from Vincent, but really it didn't matter. If he found out...if he...realized....I closed my eyes and sat at the foot of my bed, one I hadn't slept in yet. Laying back on the bed, I felt the tear roll down my cheek. Maybe I never had to tell him....
After I disposed of his body, I walked most of the way back to the place I parked my car on the street I used to live on. So many thoughts going through my mind, but realizing something had...changed in me. Something...bad? I had...killed my father. I was the cause, I had tortured him...fed on him...yelled at him...threw him away like garbage. A part of me felt so horrible, but another part...relieved. The drive home I barely blinked, barley moved. I even placed a call to Vincent, speaking very blankly and showing no emotion. "Tell Quinn I'll see him in a few days, I have to do some things for my house." He understood and promised to pass the message. Unraveling pieces of myself as I thought about the events of tonight. He never knew, but he never asked or cared. Once I made it back to my place, I went upstairs. Some of the renovations had been made the only thing left to do was the safe and decorate with my own tastes. There were some furniture pieces but nothing that was...me.
I absentmindedly peeled off the blood soaked clothes and tossed them to the side. They had to be burned. Quinn...what would I tell him? Nothing...that's right...nothing. The water fell on my skin, for the first time I blinked and shook my head clearing my thoughts, somewhat bringing me back to reality. Looking down at my hands that were painted in his blood, I just stared at them. I stared at my red hands until the freezing cold water grabbed my attention. I felt different...odd. No feelings or remorse still, almost in shock. My faith always taught me to ask for forgiveness for my sins...and I did. I did before I killed him, before I knew what I'd do...before I let darkness take over.
I quickly cleaned my body and my hair, stepped out the shower and pulled the towel around me. This was the first night in a while I'd spent the night away from Quinn. I wondered if he believed my message from Vincent, but really it didn't matter. If he found out...if he...realized....I closed my eyes and sat at the foot of my bed, one I hadn't slept in yet. Laying back on the bed, I felt the tear roll down my cheek. Maybe I never had to tell him....