The Five Steps

He kept walking, but it got more difficult with every step. His mom's voice echoed in his head, "Be the bigger man." He hated his mother. The ambiance exemplified complete silence. The only sound to be heard was his footsteps. He kept walking, but every step came with a reason to turn around. The first step argued his sanity, making him remember the earlier misfortune. The wedding dress stitches ripped apart. The second step made him question his courage, making him remember the earlier misfortune. The red dye he had given the brides hair. The third defied his humanity, making him remember the earlier misfortune. The joy he got from painting the chapel walls. The fourth step brought him a dirty conscious, making him remember the earlier misfortune. The new passport picture, the new name and his new house. The fifth step brought everything back, it opened the floodgates and his everything rushed out, unstoppable. He walked into the chapel, finding the lonely bride who had gotten there early because she was nervous. His left hand holding a knife, his breath stale and reeking of cheap Scotch. He walked up to the woman; she was still making out his face, trying to recognize him. He got close enough for her to pick out his features and she recognized him and started backing up, until she hit the chapel wall. He stabbed her repeatedly, ripping apart the stitches of the dress. He then stabbed her head, coloring her hair red like a homicidal barber. The gushing blood painting the chapel walls. He walked away. Six years of hiding and running have brought him to this point, just 5 steps behind him. He stops. Now that it's all over, everything he has planned for, everything he has lived for, what else is there to do? Run further? Hide deeper? Come clean? He begins to wonder what the sixth step will bring, yet another misfortune or complete exoneration. He begins contemplating whether or not to turn around. Behind him stands a tall building with 4 letters, "NYPD." He keeps walking.

Shifting Sands. Digital image. Bubbly Emotions. N.p., n.d. Web.