Hell? My pulse hammering against the lining of my skin threatening to beat its way out and burst my wrist. Sweat trickling down my face making me feel disgusted and ashamed. As I lean forward over the picture I realise what I have done wrong. There is no way that I can fix, or even attempt to make the situation better. This is the end. My tear ducts are at their limit and I release the dams. Hot salty tears gush down my face accompanied with a howl being released from my throat and lungs. I stay like this for what seems like hours until the sirens of the police cars pierce the tranquility. This is it. I have a choice. Give myself up to the police or, whilst I still have time, make a run for it. Whatever path I choose I will always end up at the same destination. Hell.
