Is This Justice?

A short story. Dedicated to all who have lost their lives on our roads at the hands of others.

He stood there. The rain tumbling down on him disguised the tears. The tears he cried did not fully replicate the pain he felt. Not physical pain, but emotional pain. He wasn't dead. Good for him. He hated it. He hated the thought of living now. Was this his lot? His consequence? He’d rather have died. He’d rather be the saviour. But he can’t, it’s too late. His future gone in one foul swoop.

People buzz around doing what they can. No one looks at him. No one says a word. No one wants to know him. They see his crime. Not again, they say. In their minds they have already prejudged him; a criminal. He feels it. But he’s not. I’m different surely, he reasons. But the result is the same. It’s criminal.

His desperation screams. Why! He sinks to the ground. Doesn't want to move; or breathe; or live. He glances upward as the paramedics remove the lifeless body from the car. Torn up, bloodied and mute. This is not how he remembered her. He turned away. He wished he hadn't seen. That picture, like a broken record, playing over and over in his tormented mind.

Oh, the contrast. Just yesterday it seemed as though they’d be together forever. Today is the beginning of an eternity of separation. Her life snuffed out by his stupidity, her beauty marred by his hand. He was mortified. He had done this? How is it possible? To see justice now. Him dead and her alive. Is it right that she should pay for his folly?

He felt dirty. Dirty to his very core. He’ll never be able to wash it away. He’ll never be able to wash her and what he did to her away. Or strike her from his memory. She would be there, in his memory. Her face battered. His crime visible. His condemnation eternal.

He didn't know it would hurt this much. He didn't know how bad it could go wrong. He didn't know he would lose control. He was a good driver, he thought. Evidence told its own story though. A conflicting one. A story of brash and brazen driving. Of carelessness and negligence. A story of irresponsibility; written as plainly as the death sentence he delivered.

He sat there in the church pew. Tears rolling down his cheek. Regret bouncing around his head. Her last words ringing in his ears. Stop it! You’re gonna kill someone! She had said. His fault? Couldn't be. He’d done it before; safely. But everyone in the church thought differently. They knew exactly whose fault it was. He could feel it. He wasn't welcome here.

Are they perfect? Have they never made a mistake? It was an accident. As if I’d mean to kill her. I loved her. I never meant to hurt her. Why don’t they believe me? These questions tossed and turned in his mind while he sat. The bitterness grew.

He didn't know which was worse. His punishment of living, or her punishment of death. He wished he had died with her. That would be the easy way out. It was just one mistake…