daily journal 2-18-11

"I can't believe I just killed someone." Tim's voice was monotone, but with a cold edge.  His shaking hands were dripping with blood, still warm and fluid.  The long knife he clutched in his right hand was drooling chrimson-the obvious murder weapon.  Tim released the knife and it clanked to the ground as he stared ahead blankly.  For several minutes he didn't blink or speak, and it seemed like he didn't breathe either.  I grabbed his shoulders and started to shake him, staring into his eyes.  Although he stared back deeply into my eyes, he wasn't seeing me.  I shouted his name as I continued to rock his body back and forth, like I was trying to awaken a statue.  I was exhausted, and just as I contemplated giving up, Tim's knees buckled underneath him and he collapsed into my ams.