I reblog anything that makes me laugh

I knew the moment it happened, knew resolutely that I, Miles Matheson, would have to kill my best friend.  No, more than my best friend.  My brother.  I loved Ben as most brothers do, but we never went together like that.  I considered him brainy and older and the more I thought it, the further apart we drifted.  Oh how I regret that now, now that it’s too late.  But Bass and I, we were cut from the same cloth.  From school to enlistment to the blackout he had my back and I had his.  Then, I don’t know how, but things changed.  I tried not to notice.  When he killed that rebel’s family for hurting me, I hid my revulsion.  His fists clenched every time I leaned into kiss Sarah or Nora or one of the others and I’d turn a blind eye.  The way it ended with Alec, the way Rachel died, the questions I didn’t ask.  These were little things, I thought, they meant nothing.  They meant nothing.  But I knew, I knew when it happened, when it happened, I could no longer look away.   No longer turn a blind eye.  I knew it as surely as I knew my name.  The question was, the question would always be, who would I be after?  When I point that barrel at his face, will it really be mine at which I aim?  Will I be able to live with myself?  Can I even pull the trigger?  I’m about to find out.