Hit and Run
Hit and Run pain stories
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mipoet
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Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
The man was driving late at night. He was both drunk and high.

Hit and Run

The man was driving late at night.

He was both drunk and high.

It all happened so quickly.

He reached for the radio.

Then he looked upward.

The shape of a person, thunk.

Underneath the right side of the car.

He slowed. What to do? What to do?

Foot to the gas. He fled the scene.

Guilt racked him as he ran.

Had he been seen?

Would he be caught?

Getting home he pulled the car in.

Looking at the damage he cringed.

Had he just killed someone?

He couldn’t sleep that night.

He watched the news.

A hit and run, no witnesses, yet.

Wondering, did the person live?

Critical condition, no updates.

Three days he wondered.

He didn’t eat, didn’t sleep.

Was he a murderer?

Then the update came.

Lowered to serious.

Expected to live.

Would never walk again.

Guilt again, in spades.

Should he surrender?

Turn himself in?

Days turned to weeks.

Weeks to months.

Months to years.

The guilt, the fear.

Would he be caught?

It never leaves him.

Never caught.

He carries his burden.

It punishes him instead.

Until the very end,

confessing on his death bed,

too late for any relief.

He cries from his knowledge.

Knowing he wasn’t punished.

He now feels worse.

Death and grief.

His guilt and fear all his life.

His weight.

For the crime he got away with.

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