I Ran

   When I get home that day, I storm upstairs to my room and slam the door shut behind me. My head is racing; my thoughts pounding at my skull begging to be let out. I want to give in. I want to scream and let out all the emotions that are stored inside me but I can’t. I know that I do not have the capability to speak of what just happened. To say the words out loud could ruin everything. I lock my bedroom door and collapse on my bed. As I lay there, it’s as everything around me doesn’t matter; I am locked up in my own mind. The harder I try to process what just happened the harder it is to bear the pain in my chest. Something bad just occurred, and I did nothing to stop it. All I could do was stand there; frozen in my tracks. Yet still I am doing nothing. I beg myself to get up, run to somebody and tell them what I just saw, but my body is still. As stay there in my frozen state my vision begins to blur. Why? Why am I crying over this? I can’t pinpoint one emotion. Do my tears come from sadness or do they cascade down my cheek from anger? I bury my face into my pillow trying to block out of my memory the past few hours  but the more I try to forget, the more vivid the scene gets in my mind. I think if you asked anybody about what they would do in if they were in my position, they would say that they would have stayed, try to stop it; putting their own life on the line. In truthiness, most people say this to make themselves feel better and comfort their mind for knowing that in fact they would have done what I did: ran.