Five weeks of being clean, yet I still feel as though there is dust all over my damned skin, stuck there and I'm unable to get it off. No matter how much I try and I curse myself. No matter how much I howl at the moon like a wolf. No matter how much I try to drown myself in this city's bustling crowds.

The smoke lingers still.

I look helplessly around the window and the large window caught my eye. The lights of Manhattan were glistening through the thick smog, looking like lighthouses for lost sailors. I am a lost sailor, trying to reach the land. But it's so far away and there is no way a sinner like me would ever find it again. We live in such a messed up world. We are all messed up.

I sigh, then approach the sofa, I wanted to lay down in it and drown in the cushions, but as I was about to the memories flooded my brain. They lingered still. He lingered still. Though he was dead. 

I walk to the door, leave this town behind, forget all the crooked bodies buried in my closet. 

I'd be damned if I stayed here where all the corpses were. Where he was haunting me. Where all the lives I ruined were. 

I try to stop blaming myself, tell myself 'He made me do it', but it's a lie and I know it. He handed me the gun, but I took it and I pulled the trigger. 

I ran to my car. I sped through the lit up streets. I left Manhattan behind. And my sins. 

But the ghosts of my past...

they linger still.