Written for the Flash Fiction contest at Terribleminds.
Not my fault. That’s what I told the teacher. We’d only been joshing him.
Not my fault. That’s what I told the ambulance crew. Just a game. Every day we tried to push him further. Cry harder.
Not my fault. That’s what I told the police. The judge. Dan’s parents, statues in the courtroom.
He hadn’t even thrashed. Just given up. Stubborn jerk—if he’d struggled, I could have let him up. A reaction was all I wanted.
Not my fault. That’s what I told myself, when his bloated face floated in the darkness of the cell. Not my fault.
Very nicely done.
Thank you! 🙂