Nightmare

One month later...

It was against the city bylaws to be out on the beach past ten pm, but aside from military protocols, Matt had never been one for rules. He wasn’t even sure what time it actually was, just that it had been after midnight when he had left his hotel across the street and ventured out onto the sand.

It was a cloudless night, and the moon reflecting off the ocean was something Matt may have considered beautiful if his mind wasn’t being plagued by other thoughts. Ones that had been around for weeks, and wouldn’t have been leaving any time soon. Along with that damned voice that seemed to have taken up a permanent residence, he was ready to call it quits.

You fucked up. You failed, and you could never save anybody. You let him die.

Fidgeting with the object in his hands, Matt frowned slightly. His gaze was fixed on the waves crashing against the shore, but he wasn’t really seeing them. What had the doctor said again?

She said it had been too much. His heart couldn’t take it, his body just gave up. You were too late. It’s your fault.

“Is there anyone you’d like me to call?” The doctor had asked kindly, once she had broken the news to Matt in her office.

“...no. No, that’s alright.” He had answered her finally, before leaving the room so she wouldn’t see him break down.

After that, he had eventually made his way home. And within a week, after all the press and police interviews were done, and family and friends had stopped checking in on him every single day, it was as if nothing in his life had changed.

Except, it felt like everything had changed.

For a few days, he felt like he had been in some sort of denial. He’d barely known the guy for a couple months. Matt had known hardly anything about him. Brian was just part of something that he should have been more than willing to forget. So why was it all he could think about?

You’re a fucking selfish idiot. You’ve known all along that you cared about him. You never did anything about it, and now it’s too late.

He hadn’t gone to the funeral. Hell, he didn’t even know if there had been one. All he knew was that it was his fault Brian was dead.

Day and night, Matt thought about everything that had happened at the hospital. He wondered what he could have done differently, what he would have done differently, if it would have changed how things had turned out. He was curious about what it was Brian had wanted to say in the ambulance. He remembered the conversations he had had with the other man, the promises he had made.

And that had brought him to Huntington Beach, where he had promised to take Brian once they were out. Except, he had ended up being there alone.

During his life, Matt had done a lot of things he wasn’t proud of, but he had moved on past all of them without a second thought. Life was too short to regret, he had believed. But this particular guilt was something he couldn’t shake off, and something he didn’t want to live with.

He glanced down at the object he was still holding. His prized, military-issued, semiautomatic pistol. After letting Brian down so horribly, wasn’t that the least he deserved?

You’re taking the easy way out. Brian had lost the person he cared about, but did he ever go this far? You’re weak, no wonder you failed him.

He nodded slightly, agreeing with the voice, and raised the gun to be level with his head. “It doesn’t matter. ‘We’ll all end up in hell eventually’.”

And he pulled the trigger.