Just as the aftermath settled, instant regret washed over me. It was to a level I couldn't comprehend, one that I hadn't experienced before now.
While he cried, I wobbled deeper into the alleyway we took as a home, escaping my guilt, escaping them.
Thoughts plagued me for what I had done as my faltering steps echoed in the silence.
'What… No, I was—I'm not like this. This isn't me.'
'Why did I do that?'
I was never someone who would hit my kids; I never laid my hands on them, not even once…
'It's not my fault; it's because I was tense—the hunger, those junkies—they were the ones at fault, not me. Yes, I did nothing wrong. I'm a victim.'
I fell down to the ground, knees scraping against the cold.
'…Our lives weren't supposed to be like this. We don't deserve this!'
My hands reached out to my face as I covered my mouth, and after a moment, a guttural scream left my dry throat.