"O'Lord," I cried. "P-please, help me!" I fell on my knees. "Where are you God?!" I screamed. As I held my son who was laying on the street covered in blood, then rain hit us both.
I sobbed and held on to the small boy. The rain poured. This kind of thing would be in some sort of soap opera scene. It didnt feel real, but it was. And it was happening to me.
The red and blue lights flashed, and the sound of police cars and ambulance came. I tightened my grip of the bloody boy in my hand. How could this of happened to someone like me?
My son was dead.