Woman on an island, day 26

I try to imaging the last few moments of this man's life- hearing the screams of his friend's as they started dying outside, the pounding of desperate fists on the metal door, the realization that this shelter would become his tomb. Part of me feels sympathy for him, another part disgust at what he did but then I realize he had no choice and had to do what he did. I start gathering the faded bones and carrying them outside. You deserve a proper burial at least. As I'm digging the shallow grave to put his bones in, I keep thinking that there was signs that someone recently used the house and shelter, but who and why would they need a shelter? I cover the bones and plant a small cross on it. I am not one for prayers so I finish it up and head down to the shelter to see if I can maybe scavenge some items....