# 5 – Diana – Moral Choice
It forced me to take a long hard look at there person I am. I am a monster. Yes that’s right a monster. I watched as my daughter’s coffin was lowered to the ground, and I was the one who killed her. she was barely twenty-two, her young life passed before my eyes, a life so short. A little baby who was content to grab my finger while sucking on the tip, a little girl who with bouncing curly ponytails only dreams were of one day marrying her daddy, then her first real boyfriend, and contending with braces. Oh how pretty she looked in her pink prom dress. Her mother and I were so proud as she walked the stage for graduation, and then there was the day, the day I will always regret. The day she died.
I walked in to Louie’s restaurant, it was the perfect front for an illegal bookie operation, and like any Italian restaurants it had all the usual amenities; red and white checked covered tables, with glassed covered soft glow candles, and table settings for four per table, It ambience was defiantly that of little Italy. It was ten p.m. so the restaurant was already closed; I stood in the middle of the dining area waiting for some one to notice I was there.
“You got my money.” I heard the thick accented coarse voice of a smoker say.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I turned in the direction of the voice.
“Big Louie.” I said walking toward the stout man sitting in the corner eating a big plate of ravioli and steak; he had a white napkin tucked in the collar of his shirt and his thick neck bobbed as he swallowed his food.
I felt the sweat dripping from my forehead and my palms were clammy, I don’t know what was going through my head. I still didn’t have the money, taking on Big Louie and his thugs was suicide, but I had no other choice, I wasn’t coming here unarmed. I rubbed the back of my neck confirming that my firearm was securely placed between my shoulder blades.
”My money.” Louie Stated.
“Big Louie.” I started again. “I am a little short this week.” I confessed.
“I’ve given you enough time, Mr. Crane.” He said with an unamused stare on his chunky face.
”One more week, Lou.” I pleaded desperately. “ Just give me one more week, and I’ll have the money.”
The big man shook his head. I don’t have another week for you Bailey. Your time is up.
Louie snapped and his two thugs came toward me. I panicked, taking a big gulp of air; I pulled my gun from between my shoulders… Pointing it at the henchmen while I backed up toward the exit.
“Daddy?” I heard my daughter’s voice. I turn to see her standing just inside the door.
”Carly get out of here.” I yelled..
I ran toward her trying to push her out the door. That’s when I heard the unmistakable gunfire, several times. I watched in horrifying slow motion as my daughter fell to the ground. I killed my own daughter. No I didn’t pull the trigger, but I might as well have.
And how did this all come about you ask? Drugs. At forty-five, I was laid off of a job that I spent twenty-two years climbing the ladder success, a corporate executive, making more than a substantial paycheck, confident that my job was secure, I hadn’t expected a downsize, even so, I didn’t expect to be the one downsized, a merger of two companies put several high executive out of a job replacing us with someone with new skills and lower pay. Had I known that I was going to be jobless at forty-five I would have thought to plan ahead, invest in a retirement plan or stocks, not spend our money frivolously.
I was out of a job and depressed, hanging out daily in local pubs and bars, I started drinking my compensation salary away.
One day, while I was wallowing in myself pity, two men whom I seen regularly struck up a conversation with me, they seem to know what I felt like, they said they could help me, offering me a couple little pills they said; it will make the pain go away. The first does was free, and it did. It made the pain go away, if felt so good to be worry free. Soon the alcohol just wasn’t enough anymore, after awhile neither was the little pills. I entered a world of white powder and needles. Before I knew it, I had no money; I was about to lose my house my car and my wife. So I borrowed money from Big Louie, just about thirty thousand, I had every intention of using it for my bills, really I did. The temptation was too strong and the lure for happiness, so I used the money for more drugs.
I would leave home every morning promising my wife that I would find a job, It was what I had plan to do when I told her that. I had become a monster, some one who I didn’t know, and some one I didn’t like. It was then I found myself taking a risk, I most likely wouldn’t live through. I didn’t think that Carly would have seen me on the street that day and follow me into my suicide mission.
I watched as the dirt was placed in to the open earth, my whole life went down in the hole. I turn to my weeping wife, her tears burning me like fire, and I know she hated me right at this moment. I’ve tried to console her, like I have everyday. Touching her arm, I begged for her attention, but she didn’t acknowledge me.
”I’m so sorry I couldn’t provide for you baby.” I cried. “I am sorry I couldn’t be the man you needed and most of all, I am so sorry for what I did to our child.” She still ignored me.
I looked away knowing there was nothing I could do to change what I have done and what I have become, it was then that I saw her, my daughter. Her arm in a sling she was dressed in all black. I met her tearful eyes; I knew I had to be looking in to the eyes of a ghost, because it wasn’t possible. She was dead, I heard the gunfire, I seen her fall, lying on the ground bleeding.
”Carly” I whispered.
She looked pass me, maybe I was dreaming. Wishing for something that could never be. “I am sorry honey.” I told her, not caring it was my imagination. She pulled a handkerchief from her purse and genteelly wiped away the wetness. I looked back to the once opened grave, now freshly covered with dirt. I watched as her teary gaze focused on the head stone, I too stared at the name etched in stone; I rubbed my eyes, not believing what I was seeing. It read, Bailey Crane, beloved husband and father.
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