A bit of a book

The smallest coffins are the heaviest

She had been right.
I was wrong.
So wrong.
I hadn't been responsible.
I shouldn't have went driving that night.
Let alone with her in the backseat.
It's my fault.
I'm so stupid!
She was only 4.
She don't even get a chance to live.
My parents hate me.
They miss her.
*****
I was drunk.
An I drove.
With her.
*****
The funeral is here.
The coffin so tiny.
Fragile.
Heavy.
So heavy.
My hands sweat carrying the handles along the aisles filled with scowls and judgemental stares.
Who are they pointed to?
Me.
Because it's my fault.
*****
"Where are we going big bro!" She laughed cheerily.

"Just home" I slurred placing her in the car seat.

"Are you ok big bro?" She asked

I nodded grinning at her. As I climbed into the front seat. My fingers fumbled across the ignition. My visions blurred.

"Big bro it's a red light you should stop".

BANG

Flames

Her cries

Ava's cries.

My fault.

All my fault.