Moving forward, there are some things that we won't forget.
These are the ghosts of our conscience, constantly haunting us, nibbling at the very hands that sustain their existence. They tell us the moral alternative - to improve ourselves and not fall to the lore of our desires - but with their inner voice they latch on to the very reasons they exist, putting themselves forward as sacrifice for our misdeeds.
There are many things I regret doing, and there are many more that regret not having done. As I stood with the gun in my hand, watching the tears fall from the little girls' face, I explore my inner being searching for the chain that leads to my conscience.
He has fallen, and I have affixed a chain to him. Echoes are lost down the depths of my decisions, and I can no longer hear him.
But still I search, wanting a reason not to do what I'm about to.
The echoes are lost.