TW: Gun Violence
My head was spinning, a tornado of thoughts that I couldn't control. I stumbled around the student government office like a drunk, my vision blurring, my mind reeling. Shifting from side to side made me nauseous, and before I knew it, I was on my knees, the gun slipping from my grasp as I vomited, spewing my guts all over the floor. I wiped my hand across my lips, panting hard, trying to catch my breath, but the bile in my throat wouldn't go away.
What's happening to me? Why am I doing this? I'm a psychopath—a fucking psychopath. But why? Why have I gone this far?
I didn't think my Devine mission would be so hard on me.