'It's not my fault...'
I scrubbed my hands coated with a sticky red substance. The water was cold, and I could feel it rushing towards the back of my head. It was crawling, biting onto my skin as if it doesn't want to let go.
'It's not my fault...'
I kept repeating those words in my mind, and the thought wouldn't go away. I looked towards the mirror and saw two gaunt eyes staring back at me.
'It's not my fault.'
Yeah, it's not. He did it himself. He did. He killed himself. Not me.
Not me.
Not me.
Not me.
I rubbed my face with my palms to try to calm myself. It was then that I was reminded of something. I fiddled through my pockets to find a rectangular cold device inside and opened it. My hands were still wet, so it was hard to unlock and dial the emergency number.
I put the phone on my ears and heard ringing from the other line. When I heard the call finally connected after forever, I spoke first.
Stuttering, I said, "T-There's someone dead here..."
"..."
