random thoughts can be interesting

not exactly a story... There really is no title because there is no point. It isn't a story, not a poem, just something I came up with one day.

Hi,

The lines of our lives were meant to cross but not to be intertwined. I know this now, but why did you have to leave without even a goodbye? You were the one I loved, the only one. I thought we were happy. Apparently I was wrong. I was happy. You were cheating. Yes, I found out. You got her pregnant while I was carrying our baby. Sure we weren't married, but I was carrying our baby. First you get hooked on drugs; then you start to beat me. I guess I should have seen the cheating coming. I didn't think you would be a deadbeat dad though. My expectations must have been too high for you.

I gave birth to a boy. Would you like to know his name? Five pounds, eleven ounces, thirteen inches long. Full head of black hair, blue eyes, and dimples on both cheeks. Absolutely beautiful. Luckily for me he was a good baby. His first word was 'please.' When he was five-years-old he told me I was all he ever needed. He didn't whine, never cried after getting hurt. At age seven, he asked for a pair of roller blades. Did you ever care about that? You weren't there to teach him anything. Would you be proud to know that he started working on cars when he was 11? Got his first job when he was 12, at a garage. Built the car of my dreams from the frame up when he was 16; started when he was 14. You never saw him walk, never met a single girlfriend, never gave him advice or condolences. I taught him to swim, dance, ride his bike, how to cook, and how to care. He was a good kid. In high school he became very popular. He bought a '56 corvette and rebuilt the engine, drove it to school everyday. Six foot four inches tall, 18 years old, great smile, long black hair, steel blue eyes, and a great car. He got straight A's, started a roller blading team for his high school, ran the auto shop on campus, and worked; all while volunteering at the rec center down town as a counselor. Not once did he get in trouble with the law. He got in a fight his senior year. Four boys were beating on a deaf kid at his school so he tried to stop it. One of them took out a knife and slit his stomach open. It didn't stop him from trying to help his classmate.

You see, I raised him well on my own. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have him. For that, I thank you. Last Saturday, my son was hit by a drunk driver. That driver drove over a median and ran a red light. He hit my son's car at 97mph in the drivers door. His 17-year-old girlfriend was in the car when they got hit. His hair was soaked with blood, his lungs collapsed in his body, his legs broken, eyes black and empty. When help came, they found the young couple dead and holding hands. Among his posessions I found the picture the police took of me the last time you beat me. On the back it said he would carry it with him always to remind him of what he would never be. Last Saturday you were arrested for drunk driving and killing two teenagers. You killed the son you never knew. You killed my son you never thought about. I gave him life, and you took it away; and for that, I hate you.

Author's Note

This is not based on actual events