The plain of salty, soggy grass is broken by a straight of narrow hardened concrete. Yellow lines draw me away and yellow lines guide me home. Upon the rocky staight lays two broken, damaged metal bodies. Both bodies are host to a pair of deceased remains whos spirits are long gone by now, one a husband and wife, one mother and child. The glass eyes flicker, momentarily illuminating the deep night. For a moment this terrible night of darkness and tragedy becomes visible and safe.
The husband was a nameless man, and shall remain nameless for his actions turn him into a fiend. I feel no sorrow for the man whom is destruction and death upon the undeserving. The half empty bottle that still sits in his saddle, only having its neck cracked by the steering wheel, was the catalyst for what happened here tonight. Their limp cages lay motionless and peaceful. They appear to be safe and sound, and they are for nothing will hurt them anymore. Sirens approach, and soon family's worlds will be deconstucted. A husband will become a widow, forever lost and suffering, left to wander in his past memories of the love of his life and the daughter he created. His suffering will soon drive him to join them and they may begin a happily ever after.
Three children will become orphans, no longer fearing a father who laid hands upon them. No longer resenting a mother who did nothing to stop it. They may go to the same family, or be split up as orphans tend to be. The consequences of that night will forever effect all involved. It all came back to the husband who couldn't let his wife drive after he consumed far too much. The wife who was too afraid to take a stand and leave that horrible man and refuse him the keys. Tragedy will not be cured with blame, it won't be rationalized by hate. It must be suffered through for its entirety, and that may be the most tragic fact of all.
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