[ WP ] Then suddenly the steel felt so cold in my hands

He killed them. Bodies dropped like leaves in the fall. They were my friends and he killed them. 
 
 Am I a criminal now? Is this emptiness all there is? No guilt. No shame. No anger. Just the warmth emanating from the pipe stuck in his chest. They were only sixteen. And he took their lives. 
 
 But then again… 
 
 He was only sixteen. And I took his. 
 I can hear sirens now. I can ’ t will myself to move. I stare into his lifeless eyes as the pipe protruding from his stomach keeps him upright. I ’ m no different than him. Blood runs freely onto the floor and outs my shoes. 
 
 *He murdered children! Your friends! * But then I murdered him… he was my friend. Was n't he? 
 
 The steel begins to sear my hands, it burned as if I had rested them on a hot stove. But still, I felt nothing else. I took comfort in the burning. It was the only thing reminding me I was human; because I could still feel the pain. The footsteps of countless policemen thundered in the distance. 
 
 He looked up, “ *You coward. Accept it! You ’ re just like me buddy! * ” He laughed hysterically in my face and it was an I could do to avert my eyes. I fell to my knees, my hands gripping the steel pipe so hard my knuckles were white. Killing a killer leaves the amount of killers in the world unchanged. I looked back at him. He didn ’ t move thankfully. 
 
 The policemen burst through the door, guns raised and aimed at me. “ FREEZE! Drop the pipe and lay down with your hands behind your head! ” I heard them but I couldn ’ t move. “ Drop your weapon and get on the ground! ” 
 
 “ I… I ’ m not a killer. ” The words tasted like bile, I knew it was a lie. The Sheriff stepped forward, a young female with a hard look in her eye. She holstered her weapon as she walked towards me, stepping over the mangled bodies of children. She knelt by my side, blood soaking her clean uniform, and laid a warm hand on my back. “ Ma ’ am!, ” a man warned but she ignored him. 
 
 “ Look at me. It ’ s alright you did what you had to do. We know you were just scared. Let go of the pipe sweetie.. ” 
 
 I peeled my eyes away from the corpse in front of me, and turned to face my mother. Tears began to fall like rain. “ No. I can never forgive myself. I should ’ ve died with them. ” And now I will. In one swift motion, the jagged pipe that pierced the murderer ’ s stomach turned any faced the other ’ s. 
 
 The warm steel suddenly felt very cold in my hands. Two murderers died that day. 

