Letting go of the gun, my knees sink to the ground as I watch the little girl's body drop.

I killed her.

Tears run down my face as I force myself to crawl over to her. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." I say shakily. I approach her body, looking down at her wide green eyes.

"Hold... me." She croaks, blood running through her shirt.

Tears streaming down my face, I slide my weak arms under her back and pull her close to me. I carefully move her blonde hair out of her face, watching as her chest stops moving. "No, no, no." I shake my head viscously. I cradle her nine year old dead body.

Someone places their hand on my shoulder but I ignore it. "Go away!" I tremble.

"Willow." A voice behind me says. I slowly turn around, looking into the eyes of Forrest. He's knelt down next to me, eyes sad and droopy.

"I killed her. I killed her!" I cry out.

"You had no choice. Willow, you had no choice." He repeats, slowly taking the little girl from my arms and laying her on the ground. I shake my head.

"There's always a choice." I tell him, trying to tear my eyes away from the body, but I can't.

"Look at me." Forrest says next. I can't.

He places his hand gently on my face, turning me towards him. Giving me no other choice, I look into his eyes. "Willow, it's not your fault."

"I killed her." I repeat, trembling more.

Forrest wraps his arms around me, and I melt into them, crying.

He pulls me up to my feet carefully, slowly walking away from me to gather his things. He throws the gun, my new enemy, back into his backpack and fast walks back over to me. I haven't moved. I can't.

"Oakley." He says, moving his eyes toward my brother, who is standing behind me, petrified.

"It's okay, bud. We're going somewhere safe." Forrest ruffles his hand through my brother's hair. Oakley slowly nods, taking Forrest's hand.

"She's going to be okay, Willow." He says, watching me as I avert my eyes back to the girl.

I walk behind them, regret syncing in.

Forrest takes several glances back at me, probably scared I'm going to run off.

The sun is descending, sending a cold breeze. We approach an old, sketch motel that is on the very edge of town. It looks desolate, like everything else. Forrest leads us through, finding a door at the very back of the motel. He kicks the door, making it swing open.

"There we are." He smirks, walking in.

The windows were foggy and collecting dust. There's two old wooden beds in the main area.  The bathroom can barely fit one person, the rusty toilet taking up the entire room. Forrest tosses his backpack off his shoulders, walking over to me. I haven't said a word since... her. He slowly takes my backpack off me, setting it next to his. He does the same to Oakley, before rummaging through his bag and pulling out one of his shirts. He rips it in half and grabs my arm gently.

"Stay strong for me, okay?" He looks me straight in the eyes, and I slowly nod.

He tugs it tight around my knife wound. Pain surges through my body and I bite my lip to keep from screaming out. Stay strong. Those words build me up and tear me down at the same time. Forrest ties the bandage now, and his hand lingers on my arm for a second too long.

I swallow, tearing my eyes away from his, and walking to the bathroom. I look at my reflection in the broken mirror. My messy hair has fallen and is covering half my face, and I don't have the energy to move it off. My blue eyes were bloodshot, swimming with tears. My eyes travel to my shirt, which is covered in the little girl's blood. My bottom lip begins to quiver, and I scream out in anger, not holding anything in anymore. I tear the shirt off my body, running out to my backpack. The boys are asleep now, so I grab a tight black tank top and pull it on, falling onto the bed with Oakley.

What have I done to myself?