Last time

Nervous. Of course I'm nervous. Not nervous, sweating, terrified, petrified. Why would I do this to myself oh why? I know what happened last time. I know it went horribly wrong so why oh why am I doing it again? I can't do this. I told her I was going so I have to but why? Last time I felt as if I would die at any moment and I don't want that. Not anymore. Well I guess I'll have to go. I'm almost in tears, the salty droplets just brimming my eyes making them tinge with pain like I haven't had sleep which of course I haven't. I stayed up all night worrying. Not worrying. God no worse than worrying I'm going to die. No no. Look on the brightside. There is no bright side oh dear god I guess I'll just go and see what happens. What if I can't do it? Why am I doing this? I hope they aren't there if they are I have to leave this is serious, far more serious than what it was meant to be, supposed to be a joke. Someone was killed but no one can know that. They died of natural causes well that's what their parents think. They were seventeen. I can't get rid of this guilt it's been weighing on my shoulders for far too long but it isn't my fault. We can't tell their parents, the police will get involved. This is why I really hate parties. Why do they exist? What could they possibly achieve other than pain and paranoia and insomnia. I regret this already. I'm going. I have to go. But I can't. I really really can't. Maybe I'm just weak but that's better than getting into that situation again. I'm the only sensible one I swear but I still have part of the blame for that... Abomination. I guess I shouldn't dwell on the past but if the past is that bad then how can I not? How can the guilt be lifted off my shoulders? I could tell the parents. But I can't I can't do that to everyone who was there. No. I'll have to deal with it through my entire life and maybe when I'm in hell I will deserve exactly what I get but I truly hope not. I wish for heaven and angels and everything joyous but of course not I killed someone. I know we all make mistakes but this is far more than a mere mistake. Laws are meant to be broken and all that... But not this one! This is murder this is cruel this is everything I sought out not to be this isn't me, this is someone else playing with my head. I shouldn't have been a part of what happened last time. We thought it was so funny and we were all drunk and it was... Hilarious at the time of course only now I see why it has come to this oh dear. Well I getting ready now I have to go I have to leave and go to this party with so many people I don't know and that same thing could happen again but I truly hope everything is fine. I won't drink, I'll be okay. I'll try and stop anything stupid. That's what I said last time. It can't be that bad, can it? That's what I thought last time. What happened last time can't repeat itself I just want to go to this party and have a good time. No alcohol. No drugs. Just fun and dancing with friends. No strangers. No murder. Of course, bringing it up again oh I'm so paranoid but rightly so after that oh for the love of god stop bringing it up. This time is different, this time will be fine, I'll just drive to the house oh the same house where it all happened. Who thought it was a good idea to do this again? Well I'm here aren't I? I guess I have to go in if they're all waiting for me just no death or anything oh man. I've been sitting in my car for two minutes now, beads of sweat trickling down my tear sodden, crimson face. My hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, easy to tell I'm stressed I pull down my hair and try to hide my wrecked face, no one should notice surely. Not like anyone pays attention to me. My makeup must be running. I pick up my mirror and see my mascara smudged oh it's so obvious how much I'm panicking about this of course it is, everyone should be panicking but wait, what if its me who gets killed what if I'm not involved like last time and it's me. Why do I think this way? I supposed death may be nicer than living with double the weight of guilt and sorrow and carrying this monstrosity around all day every day. Maybe it will be fine. Yeah. It will be fine. Everything will be fine. Who am I kidding? No. I shouldn't be here but I am. I must go in. I must talk to them. I try to wipe away the mascara from u der my eyes but its so obvious that the black smudges are there, its so obvious that tears of fear and anxiousness have been rolling down my rosy cheeks. So, so obvious. This whole idea is so stupid. Why did I come? I've been sat in my car for 10 minutes now and beginning to get some weird looks and stares. But they're innocent, they don't know. They are so ignorant, so blissfully ignorant and unaware and they don't know what happens in these situations. I'm not innocent nor oblivious to these things, far from it. I'm worried and panicked, no words can describe the feelings I have. They don't know what happened last time but I do. I know what happened last time.