Son of a gun.

We're in this together. at least that is what I thought when I let the barrel out, piercing the thick skull of that filthy, sneaky, .....rat. It didn't occured to me, that, this act of villainy was never appreciated by my sole partner.

No. It didn't.

So I asked,

"What do we do now?"

And, he said nothing. He kept quiet, watching the room.

The guilt didn't strike him, or me. I know that we did it for a reason.

That when it strikes me.

"WE?"

I did it. But he pulled the trigger. He wanted to kill that man. He wanted to kill him. It wasn't me. Obviously it was him.

I got my guilt wrapped me. Bounded my cold hard shells. He left. Leaving me in the middle of the room.

Clean.

Now how could I ever possibly say anything. I can't express my anger, or my hesitant. Without no one to pull my trigger.