The nightmares woke me up earlier than I would’ve liked today. They always do. It’s the same thing they have been for the past few days. The screams. The smell. But I guess you can’t really expect killing someone to not leave any lasting effects, can you?
Yeah. I’m having nightmares about doing what I did to Socialighter. I don’t even know if she really died or not. Part of me hopes she didn’t. Most of me hopes she didn’t, I guess, so maybe the dreams will stop. But I know she did, I know she did, I can feel it. And that makes me sick, every time I remember it.
I keep thinking, what if there was another way out of that situation? And there probably was. But I moved in panic. I just wanted to get myself out of there. I don’t even know why I rescued Graver. I think somewhere along the line, I’ve forgotten my reasons for most things.
Moonshine and I took yesterday off to recuperate, but I know we need more than that to recover from that week. Physically…and emotionally. Emotionally mainly. Sometimes, I think it was a mistake to get into this business in the first place. I figured I knew what I was in for, but you never really know what to expect until it happens to you and you wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night with your head full of the dying screams of the first and only person you’ve ever killed, even if it was in self-defense (or so you tell yourself).
I can’t get back to sleep. I don’t want to. I’m gonna go out on early patrol. Maybe it’ll help get the screams out of my mind. Maybe it’ll make it so I don’t see her burning every time I close my eyes. Maybe I can find some thugs to beat up. Not that that would help. Much.