Alien part 1 of 8

I commited murder. My hands, my hands are stained with blood. I couldn't get it off. This is why I began my journey.

I pierced His hands. I drove the nails through those precious hands and into the tree that held Him. You see, I didn't want to kill Him but it was almost as if I couldn't stop myself from doing it. And I did it again. And again. And again. I left Him on the tree and walked home. My legs could barely hold me up they were trembling so hard. I went to wipe the sweat off my brow and when I saw my hands. My crimson hands. I vomited. Because I knew I had just killed an innocent man. Sobs quaked through my body. What have I done? What have I done? I'm a murderer.

And so I went home. And I washed my hands with boiling water. Still, it would not come off. I was tainted for life. The evidence of what I had done would be with me forever. I packed my things and left. I didn't know where I was going but I knew I couldn't stay at the place where I had commited the crime. What a fool. Did I think I only had to leave my town to not remember what I've done? So I walked. Alone. Utterly and completely alone. And what a way to be when you know you've done something for which you could never be forgiven. All you have are your thoughts. And your thoughts are never kind to you, are they? At least mine weren't. They were tortuous. I kept replaying His death over and over in my head. The thorns on His head that left bloddy trails all the way down His face and onto His chest. Before He was placed on the tree I saw the marks on His back. I shudder now to think of it. His back was bloodied and marred and disgusting. What did I do?