I still get flashbacks of that night. Even stepping outside my isolated house reminds me of the deathly wind that’s truly to blame. Nobody will ever understand what I've went through: the dysfunctional guilt that, till this day, haunts me. Walking past her house is a permanent reminder of the reckless pain I've caused her family who, two years later, still walk with their heads like dead flowers. But who can blame them? The bitter scent of red roses finds a way to dwell on my every move drowning my sorrows into a physical heartache.
