Itís your fault, too.

 

 

Look, Chief, I know this is bad.

But the street wheel just wouldnít turn the way I wanted.

Other people saw me. They got scared when they thought I might hit them.

I kept thinking someone with a cell phone might call you and get me in trouble again, so I tried to get out of the area fast.

I remember what you said about me drinking while on duty and didnít want you to suspend me again.

You know and I know I canít stay away from the stuff.

Even when I was a kid I thought I could handle the stuff. I always seemed to be able to drive a car when I have to, walk a straight line when the cops pulled me over, even win a bar fight when someone looked at me wrong.

Back then, I didnít have to worry about getting fired from no job.

My old man didnít care what I did as long as I didnít bother him. He was drunk most of the time anyway.

You know and I know how much trouble I got into with the law.

Not a weekend went by when I wasnít locked up for something, and as good a driver as I thought I was, I wrecked a lot of cars. I guess I thought I was superman and did everything possible to try and prove it.

You were a patrolman back then, you saw what I was doing to myself, and hated me for doing it.

I never did ask you why you helped get me straight like you did, making sure I had a good sponsor at AA.

For a time, the program worked as if you and God were looking out for me and I began to forget my old man and started looking towards you for guidance.

Heck, I let you talk me into becoming a cop like you were. I even believed your spiel about doing for others what others have done for me.

You seem to think I had all the right skills to be a cop and that I only used them wrong.

Later, you even warned me against hanging out with a certain group of cops, saying their constant carousing would only lead me back to the place where I was before.

I didnít believe you. I liked to party. I liked the women I met when with them. I guess thatís what ruined my marriage and made me go from social drinking right back into the binge.

It got so bad that I was flying high even while I was on patrol, stashing bottles in the drunk so that nobody would see them.

I tried to stop. Honest I did.

I even came to you so I could take time work so I didnít have to worry about doing anything stupid while on duty.

I told you I was in trouble. I begged you to walk me through the ritual again, and to your credit, you did.

Some people thought I was some kind of hero for making the effort like I did.

But deep down, I knew I was no hero. Not in the way they meant.

Thatís why Iím back on the sauce. Thatís why I hit the back of the car as hard as I did.

I didnít even see the station wagon until I was plowing through as if through ice. And I certainly didnít see the kid in the back seat until she was dead.

Damn it, chief, itís your fault as much as mine. You should have stopped me a long time ago. You should have known how I couldnít stop myself.

I know Iíll never be a cop again. I know Iím going off to jail. But at least locked up I know I wonít be hurting anybody else for a long time.

 

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