I am not going to confess what I did, as I can not get myself to write it. I suppose the idea that I have some guilt eating me on the inside is a confession in itself. When I was 10 I did something terrible, and I have thought about it every day for the last 9 years. I have let it consume me, and what I did DEFINES me. Someone told me that whatever it was that I did couldn’t have been that bad because I was only ten. That is a lie. Humans are capable of so much evil, disgusting things and I am sad to say I am one of those people. I think every single day, every minute, what if I’d just went to sleep instead? What if,. What if. I don’t deserve life, I am a terrible, horrific person, and I hate myself for it. I try to get everyone else’s insight without directly saying what I did, and they tell me to let it go because we all make mistakes. And maybe that helps for a good second, but if they knew what I did they would not be telling me that. This is my confession, I highly doubt I will ever get over this so I am hoping maybe I will develop dementia and no longer be able to remember anything. Thanks for listening.