As I practiced singing I decided to write a song for the man I killed.
I've seen the dead before, but I've never had a story to go with it.
For some reason writing the song is helping me.
Writing my little song has given me the chance to understand what happened to me.
"I woke up, and everything was in shambles.
Everything was gone.
I remember seeing my wife on the floor holding our two year old son.
Our two year old son.
The lights were so bright that I was blinded.
I couldn't see anything, but I could hear it.
There was a roaring in my ears that no other person should ever hear.
There was pain, but that wasn't new.
The pain was new when I saw the car that hit us.
I couldn't help but think it was my fault.
I did it, but I couldn't even help my wife or son.
There was so much blood, but the one thing I remember most was that I wanted to help them, and I couldn't do anything to help them."
I took another step in the van and decided that I wanted to do something.
I wanted to fix this.
I sat in the driver's seat and looked at my hands, where I saw another hand on my wrist.
The person from the van was standing next to me.
The guy was young, maybe twenty years old.
He had dark brown hair and dark eyes.
He stood at the door of the van, not quite touching it.
I turned the key and put the van in drive.
He jumped in the backseat and yelled at me, "you think you can just drive us off?"
I looked at the road ahead of me.
I didn't want to do this.
I didn't want to hurt anybody, but I couldn't just sit here.
I could hurt myself.
"I was just looking at my hands and thinking about my wife and son.
When it happened, I could barely feel anything.
I just wanted to go to sleep.
Then everything went black.
When I woke up, I saw you.
I saw you before you opened the door.
I could tell that you wanted to help.
You wanted to help us, but I couldn't.
I couldn't move, I couldn't even scream.
I couldn't move my arms or legs.
I couldn't even talk."
I looked at him.
He was clearly confused.
"You were right next to me when I woke up.
You had a knife in your hand and you told me not to be scared.
I knew that the others were there, but I couldn't do anything.
I was just hoping that they wouldn't find me like that.
I was hoping that they would help me.
I was hoping that they wouldn't hurt me."
The guy grabbed my hand.
He gripped it tightly and squeezed.
I thought he was going to break my hand, but instead he kissed the back of my hand.
