Heart Out

Heart Out

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Mar 21, 2015
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Fiction
Romance
'Dead at scene.' The words run through my head, I wish they were different; "he's badly hurt but, he'll pull through" or "just a few injuries but, he should be fine" and a small part of me even wishes it was "instantly killed." Instantly killed would mean he didn't feel a thing. He wouldn't of felt his body hit the car and then be thrown back, he wouldn't of smelt the blood and sweat and panic, he wouldn't have heard the driver of the car, drive off. But, I guess he did.
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Angel

There's no easy way to say this, so let's just get it out of the way: this is the story of how my son died. There. Like ripping off the Band-Aid. Not easy or painless, but quick. Unlike ripping off a Band-Aid, though, that pain doesn't fade. It leaves a scar. It's something that follows you around, day after day, twisting its way through every moment and every interaction. It's something that defines you. You lose a bit of yourself when something like that happens, and I don't mean just the actual loss of your own flesh and blood. For me, I stopped being a dad. I spent years and years as a dad, and then he died and I wasn't a dad anymore.

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