I Won’t Be like You

As I sit in the hard chair in the waiting room, thoughts race through my aching head. I told you not to drink and drive. I told you if you were going to drink, that you should at least have a friend to drive you home. You chose not to listen. You consumed three beers, 5 shots, and a margarita. You knew you should have gotten a ride home. But being the stubborn person you are, you thought you could drive home.

I only wish a cop had pulled you over. You were speeding. You were going 70 miles per hour in a school zone. How stupid are you? A single mother going home from work was unfortunate enough to be on the very same road at the very same time as you. She’s dead. Her five little kids are now going to be separated and put in foster homes. Good job.

I’m so disappointed in you right now. You knew what you did was wrong. You shouldn’t have picked up those keys. But you did. I hate you for that. The doctor’s telling me something now. Oh, so you’re dead now. You left me. You just decided to abandon me, alone and angry in this world. You know I was always so proud of you. I shouldn’t have to be like this. You should have been giving ME the “Don’t Drink and Drive” speech. But I can tell you one thing. When I grow up I won’t do what you did. I’m not that stupid. I hope you’re happy Daddy.