The Trouble With Charlie

by Kenneth Preston

That stings. If she knew what I’d done, she wouldn’t tell me that I know the difference between right and wrong. But already, my brain is trying to justify what she said. I’m a murderer, sure. But I know that what I’ve done is wrong. I feel guilty about it. And I know that I will never do it again. So, she’s right; I do know the difference between right and wrong.

Only I can hear him because I’m his creator. I’m God.