Clementine:
Troy stood with the rod pointed at his own chest.
"Troy, please," I requested, trying to reach him. He kept forcing the rod inward, pushing it closer and closer, and my worry grew.
"I am guilty of hurting Clementine," he remarked.
The moment he said it, he tried to drive the rod into himself. The tip pierced his skin, and the life in his eyes started to fade.
I rushed forward before he could push it deeper and grabbed the rod, stopping it from going any further.
"No. Stop." I tried to pull it back, but the strength he was using felt unreal.
Ian and the others gathered around us, each trying to keep him from pushing the rod in completely.
With my hands shaking, I did the only thing I could. I let out a small cry and yelled, "I forgive you."
He froze. His arms stopped straining against the rod, and he looked at me directly.
