The scene is burned into my mind. We were chasing a perp and suddenly a child was there. I saw the car run him over without even slowing down and there was nothing we could do to prevent it, the most we could do was swerve around the corpse. For hours I've been trying to get the images out of my mind --the sounds-- but I can't. My brain keeps replaying them time and time again and I can't make them stop.
A child is dead and there's nothing I can do about it. I feel Jim wrap his arm around my shoulders as he pulls me into a hug and while I'm grateful for what he's trying to do, it doesn't help. As I sit here, in the bullpen, I try to imagine his parents, their grief and I wonder who will have to tell them about what's happened. Were they waiting for their son to come home? Did that boy have any brothers or sisters who will miss him? What was his name? Who will remember him? What could he have done with his life if he'd been given a chance? We will never know. All it took was a moment, then it was over.
It was an accident but an accident that could have been avoided... should have been avoided. I saw it happen and I wonder if the arrest was worth it... I don't think so.
Author's Note: Okay, so this ficlet doesn't make much sense... if you are wondering what's the point of this thing the answer is simple: I wasn't in the mood for adjectives so I decided to try and eliminate as many of them as I could.