By Sean A. Donahue © 2006
I swear your honor; I am not a violent man.
Let me explain.
I really didn't like him in the first place, and I know it sounds bad but please let me finish. He was my good friend's brother, a necessary evil in my life. Wherever my friend went, his brother wasn't far behind. I couldn't stand him for whatever opinion he misspoke he infuriated others and drove me crazy. All Ken did was pick at people and give them a reason to hate him.
But that wasn't the thing that hurt me the most.
It was how others, because of my friendship with Ken's brother, caused me to be linked up with Ken's creative storytelling and lies. When people started to link me and Ken together I couldn't take it anymore. Whenever he did something stupid it was "Where's your idiot friend Ken?" or "Did you hear what your buddy said?"
He wasn't my friend or my buddy. But I tried to be patient and just ignore his stupidity, let him dig his own grave. But, alas he would find away to jump out before the dirt would even start to cover him.
Yes, he was a thorn in my side, yes, I hated him but I tolerated his actions to keep the family peace with my friend. Boy was that a mistake.
So he came by my house drunk one day and I offered him a chance to sleep on my spare bed, use my laundry to clean his clothes, and take a shower, (immediately after which I planned to bleach the entire bathroom) and just start over fresh.
But he chose not to. He crashed on my futon and threw up over my Chinese rug. He didn't offer to clean it up, just walked out. He didn't apologize for the coffee table that he broke or the picture of my daughter that he knocked down; he just opened the back door and collapsed in the middle of my back yard.
Yes, I was mad. He destroyed things in my house, not caring for a thing that was mine and was muttering about how pitiful I was. I thought if I could get him up and out of the yard that he would traipse over to his brother’s house and leave me alone.
But he wouldn't go, he just kept talking about my dead wife, how ugly she was and how he could have screwed her cause she was easy.
Yes, this angered me your honor, and I tried to keep the anger away. But all I saw was red. I saw my wife's face as I laid her into the ground on that cold December morning. I saw the cries of Ashley's face as we mourned our loss. And I don't even remember jacking Ken up with one punch, but yes, I thought it was funny to pour the honey over him and lead it straight to the red ant hive. Yes, it was cruel of me. But I thought he would wake up, I didn't know he had alcohol poisoning. I just didn't think that someone who treated me so badly deserved anything but having the ants washed off him with a spray hose after they started biting.
Please understand that I didn't mean to hurt him, you see I have a child, a twelve year old that I want to walk down the aisle when she gets married. I am a good father and have a good job in the oil fields. It was all harmless fun. Yes, your honor I tried to get him help. I washed the ants off and tried to sober him up. But he started to choke and vomit he turned purple and when the ambulance got there he was gone.
I didn't know he was allergic to ant bites. I'm not a violent man.
Sean A. Donahue is a freelance writer, radio personality and poker amateur. He plans to move to the semi-pros with stops in Topeka and Albuquerque some day. He has been published in For Kids Sake Magazine, Sunlight through the Shadows, Truckin' and is the author of www.instanttragedy.com a website looking a life, liberty, and the ability to have Instant Tragedy when you just add water. He is divorced with two children and lives in Lubbock Texas.