Blinded by the glare, the man continued to run. His eyes burned from the vicious rays of the sun, as they pierced through his heart. The sun illuminated the world beautifully, but right now, he would've given anything for the sun not be able to catch him running away. He felt exposed. No one could hide from the curiosity of the sun's rays, especially when the person has so much to hide.
His mind was becoming uncontrolled, drifting to where it pleased. Without the man's permission, his mind raced back to when he committed the deed.
Blood was splattered everywhere. Some of it was his own, but he was too scared to tie up the cut on his right hand. Blank eyes stared at his sweating face, accusing him, remembering what he looks like, if they ever were to meet again in the after-life.
The man kept running, away from the guilt, away from the consequences, but the sun kept him from forgetting, the sun kept him from hiding the deed even from himself. Whenever he tried to push it down, it surfaced to the top of his thoughts, impossible to throw away.
He could still feel the shock as the blunt weapon rebounded against the man's skull. Hearing the crack as bone became like shards of glass. The pulsing of the blood as it kept flowing out of the wound. The searing pain as the victim's final attempt of resistance sliced his hand.
Tears streamed down the man's eyes, a combined effort of the suns rays, and the beast inside him. His legs gave way, he hit the ground, and the ground swallowed up his face. He lay there, contemplating the evil he had done. The ground gave him strength, as though he had returned to the earth, was born again, and had a second chance on life.
He got up, and started running again. The sun this time, however, was behind him, supporting his mission. He was running toward his deed, embracing it, accepting it as his own. But he vowed to fix it. He did not want to live life with the guilt weighing him down. His mind worked overtime, forcing himself to remember all the details of the event.
He rounded the corner, entered the house, and stood exactly where he had stood an hour ago. Racing toward the bedroom, he fell upon the unconscious body. He knew he had no time to lose, he ripped his shirt, wrapped the wound, gritted his teeth, and put the man on his shoulders.
Again he went on running. He ran even when his legs were burning, even when sweat blinded his eyes. Still, the sun supported him, urging him to go forwards.
The hospital tower never seemed to get closer, but finally its doors where right in front of him. He laid the man down on the welcome carpet, kissed his forehead, prayed that he would be safe, and left, just as a doctor came around the corridor.
The man continued to run, the sun pushing him along.