Prologue: Guilt

Guilt is a funny thing. One day, you're free of it without a care on your mind. The next, it will leach into your heart with an inexorable burden. The worst element of guilt is that you must mentally endure the weight of your action in addition to surviving vigorous denunciation from others. Fault seldom disappears by its own course and when it does decide to lift from your conscience it will ensure that its exit is entirely corroding and depleting. There remains its essence—the sting of stigmatism that lurks beneath the action deemed blameworthy. In most situations, it can be difficult to discern whether the guilt is really logical, whether there is a proper reason for that remorse.

Murder does not constitute as one of those situations.

Author's Note

I'm not entirely pleased with this. It doesn't really fit the story style. It fits the theme though. This is a warm, summery, heart-felt, soulful story so if you're interested in that, please keep reading. I promise this doesn't represent the rest of the story...