I had asked twice. The amount just didn’t seem right, so I asked a third time. What I heard was confirmed. Against my better judgment, I administered the medication. Seconds later, I knew I had been right to doubt the doctor. The patient seized uncontrollably before going completely lifeless. It wasn’t until after he called the time of death that the doctor and I discussed what happened. While I had been triple checked the amount of the medication I thought I was to administer, I didn’t confirm the medication itself. I heard him wrong. This is all my fault, and I’m so sorry.
Arriving on the scene to a crowd I take note of the body’s secrets A bruise on the neck and throat Hands and feet bound by rope A single strand of hair is found It’s stuck under a fingernail The crime scene techs bag the hair As I happened to see another thing Blood was on the feet, the bottoms I had the techs swab them both As I waited not so patiently I finally got the call I headed to the suspect’s house Finally firm in evidence’s grasp We sit in a room facing one another And I let them know they’re caught I look them in the eye and say Even the dead tell stories
He walks in carrying grocery bags and telling me to close my eyes. I know this means a surprise awaits me, as he only left for one thing. I feel butterflies from his joy and excitement to show me my presents. My favorite ice cream and a Laffy Taffy are gleefully pulled from the bags. I giggle with excitement as he smiles from ear to ear. His favorite thing is physical touch, so I pull him in for a big hug and a kiss. Who needs words to say “I love you”?
