Broken
It was too late to turn back now. Too late to fix my mistakes. It all happened in a blur. The gunshot, the blood, her death.
You killed her James. This is your fault.

I had to. It was my life, or hers.

Shouldn't it have been yours. She was your wife. You let her suffer. You never really loved her, and nobody has ever loved you. Why do you think your dad left you, and your mom committed suicide. You're worthless.

The voice kept running through my mind. Telling me that I had made the wrong choice, making me doubt myself. Maybe it was right, maybe it should have been me. The sun continued to beat down on my face, drops of sweat falling of my forehead. My hat didn't help very much. I sat down and took a deep breath, replaying  what had happened in my head.

"James, you don't have to do this," she painted, her hands tied to the tree.
"You don't understand Kira, I do," I said sorrowfully. I pulled the gun from the back of my pants as she winced. I put the gun between her eyes.
"Please," a tear fell from her eye.
Bang.

I stood up, erasing the memory from my mind. I continued my path, with the bag of gold in my hand. There was no going back. Maybe the voice was right, maybe my existence didn't have a meaning. But it didn't matter now. I was lost...and broken.