Twisted Metal


  Standing over her crib I feel a distinct feeling of responsibility. The same responsibility that dragged me unscathed through my parent’s death and never gave me a chance to look back.

  Two years ago people called me selfless for what I did. Ending my life early to give her the best one I could manage. They’re wrong. It was the most selfish thing I’ve done.

  Upside down, half-suffocated by the belt tangled around me with a face full of glass and a pool of blood beneath me, ever rippling, I heard nothing from the front seat and I knew they were dead.

  She was beside me, hanging from her car seat, untouched, her face slowly turning red as the blood pumped out of her tiny little heart and rushed through her newborn body towards it.

  That looks uncomfortable I remember thinking, and before I knew it my hands were fumbling with the clasp that bound her. I held her then for the first time and knew that she was an escape. A way to bypass whatever horror waited for me when I managed to get out of the car and have my fears confirmed. I would hold her so I would never have to hold myself. I would wake to her screams so that I would never have to wake to my own. She was there for me in a way I would never be able to be there for her, but I’d do my best and give her everything.

  I held her for the first time and knew she was mine.

  Sometimes I feel that grief waiting for me. I’m on borrowed time in that regard.


~ by Joseph Blame on September 6, 2010.

One Response to “Twisted Metal”

  1. […] [TWISTED METAL]  – Originally posted September 6th 2010) […]

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