Irreversible

When pacing, Michael would think clearer, but he was frozen on his spot, a mix of emotions making his mind go everywhere, back and forth, left and right and every direction possible. Regret, remorse, his doing was loaded with all of it, and his mind made sure he felt it's entire weight. He messed up. He knew right away how badly he messed up, big time on this one, as his dad would always sigh. When younger, he wasn't a rebellious kid, so he didn't quite often heard his dad say such phrase- but it unavoidably came to his mind, accent and facial expressions included.

He knew deep down there was no turning back. No matter what he did or tried to make it up, only way to fix it, to atone of his actions was to turn back time. It was impossible, he was completely aware of it, but his heart wished it dearly. To have the mind of a genius to make time-travel possible. Or own a Delorean, probably borrow it from his white haired friend who could easily be his grandfather, go back in time and voilá. God, life would be so much easier. Delusional, as some of his friends back in school would claim when he talked about what he would do given the chance, but was it wrong to add a bit of fantasy to the flat, caught in the chains or rules and laws of our everyday? The 80's movies fed on that desire of him in the format of cinematic fictions that made anything and everything possible.

Done staring, mind coming back from the spiral that lasted barely a couple of seconds, he crumbled to his knees, perhaps a bit too harsh due to the cracking that came with the loud thump, fearing the old lady that lived below them would find out, always a nosy woman being around to mess things up, as if the laws of nature assigned a nosy woman to every block on every street in every city for them to act as a viligante. But even then and for his personal convenience, an old lady was better than Batman.

Anyone close enough could hear his heart thumping against his ribcage, cold sweat from the abruptness of the situation. For a brief moment, the wild thought of just walking away blurred at his thoughts. That he had nothing to fix if no one found out. Just act like it never happened; most people do that, and he was no exception. It could work and everything would be fine again, right? but the scream... the scream that followed his actions could have been loud enough for that quiet evening, so the chances flew out the window- guilt making the idea succumb almost right away. How could he possibly think that? He was decent. No, far more than decent. He was a good person. Is, not was. He still is a good person. Oh, the remorse.

"I'm sorry..." he mussitated, the knot on his chest making it a little harder to breathe. He didn't mean it, he knew that. It just... happened. He scared himself, his throat dry from the gasp that followed his doing, instant regret flowing thru his system, to every inch of his large body. But it was too late; damage was already done. "I'm so sorry" he repeated, pained features as his hands reached out just a few inches before him on the floor.

His hands wrapped firmly around the body to pick it up gently, as if it was made of glass, needing to be delicate. Light brown fur came in touch with his fingertips, slight tickles making them feel funny. Bringing the dog's torso against his chest, he hugged it, closing his eyes as he held the no longer than a year pet that brought him so much joy and beautiful memories.

"Alfredo, i'm sorry bud!" he exclaimed, his pet waggling it's tail as his owner pressed him to it's chest. He could feel his own tears verging, not daring to let go of the pup he just harmed, now owner and author of the most pained howl he had ever heard.

"Michael, he's fine for heaven's Sake. You just stepped on his paw-" Mia sighed, having watched everything from the couch across the living room, holding back her eye roll from the most dramatic scene Michael pulled off this week so far, magazine laid over her naked lap. "Look at him, he's moving his tail and everything!" she pointed out, a part of her wantint to ease him, but for the most part, it was just to point out how ridiculous Michael was behaving.

"But I made Alfredo cry!" Michael exclaimed with a high pitched voice, one that brought him back to his senses, still hugging his pet in the middle of the room as he realized he may have gone a bit over the top on this one. "Are you okay, bud? I didn't see you.." he asked, reaching for the pup's paw, thumb gently stroking over it to see if any injuries were made. His shoes could have been heavy enough and the cry made him believe he just broke poor Alfredo's paw. Maybe he could sue his company for making him wear such ugly, old fashioned and unnecessary heavy shoes.

"Michael, he's gonna piss himself. Let him go"

"You're right-" Alfredo jumped off Michael's lap as soon as arms were unfolded, released from the momentary prison he was held against his will. Michael slowly stood back up, and watched as Alfredo moved on as if nothing happened to his bowl stacked on food, fish being it's favorite flavor this month- and as he remembered he had to go buy some errands, and that included Alfredo's favorite snacks, he stood there, blank look as he still felt the remorse, claiming on his mind to be the most horrible person that human kind ever encountered for - accidentally - stepping on his pet's little paw.