I could have prevented their deaths.
No matter how many times people would try to tell me
otherwise, would spout clichéd platitudes about how there was no way to know
and that I shouldn’t blame myself, the scene would be thrown back up and replay
itself in my mind.
The three of them, leaning out the windows of the cheap car
from the nineties, all of them saying how much they’d like to engage in sexual
acts with me.
The rage inside me.
The fireball that formed in my hand…
I could have prevented their deaths.
But they deserved them.
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