Another shot of whiskey hadn't been enough to kill the pain. But it had been enough to turn my car into the roaring monster it was, faster than a speeding bullet, and even more deadly. Everything happened in a blink of an eye... the impact of my truck crashing into her car was quickly followed by the image of her lying dead on the airbag, her hair, yellow like wheat only an instant ago, was now dyed in red, a result of the bloody shower that had come from her head and sprayed her eight-year-old daughter's doll face. The little girl was as still as her mother, staring at her from the distance, her round blue eyes unable to grasp the concept of what they were seeing. Her look showed the mirror image of her mother's corpse. My horrified eyes couldn't keep away from this tragic image, feeding my guilt at the sight of her injured and bloody teddy bear hanging from her hand.
“Excuse me, mister” she said suddenly coming towards me, with the youngest British accent I had ever heard, “could you wake my mommy up, please?” Another shot of whiskey had been enough to shatter an eight-year-old's world.
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