If you couldn’t tell, this is off of, the crime of forgetting, which happened to be by my awesome writer sister, Jinx.
The Worst Crime
“Daddy, why are you so busy?” One four year old girl asked.
Her twin then inquired, “And how come you can’t play with us anymore?”
He sighed, “Because I have to make something called a funeral.”
“What’s that?” They asked asked in unison.
Daddy fought back tears as he said, “It means you won’t see Mommy again for a long time.
“Until we die.”
Joy and Renea looked sad at this. But if they could really understand what this meant, they would be weeping.
“Hey Buddy? What do you want?” The dirty bartender asked.
“Well most people come to a bar cause they want something to drink.”
Over the conversing in the bar, his barely audible reply was, “You pick, just make it strong enough for me to forget about my painful memories.”
“And what memories would those be?”
He painfully suspired before answering, “He committed the worst crime; taking a loved one.”
“Sir, I believe we’ve found the man who killed your wife,” The police man said, “He was drunk during the accident.
“Take him away, I can’t look at him!” He sobbed
The streetlights flashed across his face, as he raced home. His thoughts raced with him.
What was the man I have grown to hate going through when he hit her? Maybe all he could do was drown his pains in booze. Like me. Maybe he recently hit the bottle because he was hurt. Like I am hurt. Maybe when he hit the random girl on the street, he never saw her.
Ripping him from his thoughts, was the sudden pain of his legs being crushed. All he could see was the wreck that used to be his car. The smell of spilled gasoline drifted to his nostrils. But worse than all of these senses combined, was the hideous thud of metal hitting human.
So maybe there are crimes worse than taking a loved one, and now he has commited both of them. They’re called the crime of forgetting and the crime of repeating.