Kane Kushner, aged 11 from St Albans

Guilt

It might have been the world’s most beautiful night. No moon. Stars like searchlights. A thin layer of ice covered every branch and leaf and blade of grass. It was perfectly, eerily still. Nothing rustled the hedges and I could imagine the rabbits and badgers, rolled up tight in their underground dens. It took the haunting scream of an owl to tear me out of my dream, remind me that I was not here to enjoy nature. There was work to be done.

A shivering tickle descended down my back, I barely moved for fear of what lay ahead was too much to handle. I lowered my body and retrieved the spade, but when I saw the dismembered, rigid corpse the spade slipped through my fingers landing on the muddy blood stricken floor, silence.

I hadn’t planned this, and I certainly didn’t expect to be in this terrible situation. The boys had begged. It was my last night working on the site. “Just one more drink” they pleaded, one for the road. If I had known how the night would end I would of stuck to a hot chocolate in front of the TV. But they insisted, and as usual I gave in. I didn’t really have that long a drive home. Just down the old forest lane I have done it for the last 6 years no sweat, so why would the last time be any different. Now all I had to do was head home, get some sleep and be on the 10:30 morning train to Glasgow.

I didn’t even see him. It had started to rain, but no big deal. I have driven this road in the rain one hundred times. The beat of the music swept me into some kind of hypnotic state maybe, the heater blowing out comforting warm air. But hey no excuses. He stumbled out of the trees and I slammed him into tomorrow.

So here we are. Me and my new Buddy. I reached for my mobile and as my fingers played with the pad… I got a flash of my new life that was about to begin. New location, new job and great money. So now I faced a huge decision.

I got out of the car slowly and stumbled to the poor guy. I saw no life. All I could make out was the bloody mess of flesh and bones. There was no decision. His life may have just ended, but mine was about to begin. I was over the limit. There was no choice. So I find myself caked mud, blood and sweat. As I bury his disfigured body the sight of him repulses me. Through the mud I notice a picture he seems to be clinging to. I prise open his hand and the two children smile back at me. I throw up. There is still no choice. I am over the limit.

So now 6 months later I’ve got some great money in the bank, lots of new friends and a great new pad. The only problem is, I’m not sleeping so well. I keep getting the same old recurring dream. Beat of the music, hum of the warm air blowing in my face, crash of his body flying through the air, and the smile of those 2 children who’s dad never came home.

There wasn’t really ever a choice.

“Excuse me officer I would like to make a confession.

Kane Kushner

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