I stopped walking after 3 hours.

But, for once, it wasn't because I was tired, it was because I felt guilty. I had felt it the moment I left the small town and for three hours I debated on the reason why.

My mind went berserk trying to figure it out, but for some reason, I just couldn't. I wanted to leave it, to push away the feeling but it was so powerful that it made me feel weak.

I sighed, confused as to what I was going to do. I stared at the sky, hoping to find a moment of peace, the one that I used to feel. Instead, I felt a like there was a war within me.

I was lonely.

I was bored.

I was tired.

I was sad.

I was guilty.

I was angry.

But

I wanted to be alone.

I didn't want to do anything anyway.

I was okay with feeling sad.

I didn't know why I was guilty.

And I felt calm.

My feelings and emotions were contradicting themselves.

I sat down for a moment, took a deep breath in and a deep breath out. It'll be okay. I didn't know if it was me who told myself that, or if someone else was in my mind. But I couldn't care less, because at that moment, I finally made a decision.

I was going back to that stupid little town.

I smiled slightly, knowing I now had something to do, and I nearly felt relieved that I was going back.

I stood up and went to begin walking but I stopped myself before I could even make a single step.

I had no idea which direction I had came from. With all my thoughts and mind battles, I had completely lost track of my path and where I was meant to go. I wanted to yell out in frustration but instead pulled at my hair.

After a few moments, I knew I had no option but to make a lucky guess and go for it.

I looked in every direction, seeing that everything looked exactly the same. I noticed at a small bush, deciding that it looked familiar. I hesitated for a moment before walking, praying that my guessing skills were accurate.