Writhing in pain, he lay at my feet.
His body was broken as his life was passing.
His legs moved ever so slightly as he stared at me with much dismay.
What had I done?
It was only an accident. I swear.
Blood, and guts seeped from his body and I stared back at him as if to apologize.
Had your life been worth it? I imagined speaking this to him.
In a completely catatonic state, I knew he wouldn’t reply.
Why? I imagined him asking me with his last breath.
Why have you taken my life?
He must have had a family somewhere.
Family that cared for him, like my family cares for me.
I’m sure they’ll be missing him when the dinner bell rings.
Hopefully there’s no search parties after 48 hours.
I turned away as his legs stopped moving and his eyes glazed over.
I felt terrible, but to be honest I would’ve done it on purpose if it wasn’t for the accident.
As I turned back around, with a single solid swipe of a paper towel I cleared his wretched body from the ground and threw him in the trash.
That damn dirty cockroach.