He was a little
drunk and had hit her with his car. He saw the little light blinking but wasn’t
quite sure what it was in the dark. By the time he saw her green night bike
riding uniform he didn’t have enough time to swerve away. She flew over the
car, bike and all, and he slammed on the brakes.
She had a helmet
on but the way she had landed broke her neck. She lie there with her tongue
hanging out like a dead cow’s, her eyes wide open and her head over her left
shoulder.
Quickly he
picked her up and put her in the backseat, her head hanging limp from her
detached neck. After he got her in the back seat and the bike, mangled, in the
trunk he got in the driver’s seat and started driving, constantly looking in
the rearview for any sign of headlights or blinking blue and red.
A few times as
he drove he puked in his seat as he thought about her dangling head. If he
admitted it all, told them he had a few beers and a few scotches at the bar
after work, he would go to jail. The law had no patience for drunkards.
Involuntary manslaughter, leaving the scene of the crime, it was all too late
now. If he called the police immediately maybe he would only do 10 years. This
was his third DUI though, they probably would try to get him to do 25.
There was a
bridge ahead and not many options. Turn himself in and go through America’s
penal system or the bridge and all the serenity that death brings. He sped up,
got in the far right lane and then burst across traffic, plowing through the
concrete, hitting the water below.
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