Square One

I said I would tell the truth.  Some days are better, but some are just like this...today is one.

They just don’t have a clue. They don’t know it feels to know that you tried so hard, wept those tears, stayed awake those nights with her, watched over her so closely, reminded her to take her meds a thousand times, talked her into bathing when she didn’t want to, cooked whatever she wanted to get her to eat, talked to her for hours on end, made her laugh, made her feel good about herself, made ...her smile, stayed strong for her (most of the time), and in the end, it was all for nothing.

 

  None of them know what it is like to have sent your child to her death. To run like you’ve never ran for anything and will never run again. And to still be too late. To be completely helpless the one time it mattered the most. To not be able to touch her because they wouldn’t let you get that close. To see what you saw and can never unsee in your mind. To have to mentally jerk away from the sight each time it descends on you…when you’re hurting, when you’re tired, when you’re sleeping, when you’re missing her, and not be able to escape cause the image always pulls you in and says, “Hey, wait a sec…where do you think you’re going, murderer? Come, get a look at this. Right up close where you can see it all.” And you do. You see it all. 

 

You bought it. You own it. Get a good long look, why don’t you? I hope you burn in hell, you rotten child killer. What did that sweet girl ever do to you but try to please you? Look what you did to her. Look what you did. Look at that mess you made.