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Bullet Hole
by faust
So, this was it. All that was left: a hat with a bullet hole in it.
A dead son, a wasted young life, a mourning family, an empty shell of a father, one raging brother, one shattered brother, and a hat with a bullet hole in it.
Clumsy attempts at comfort by well meaning neighbours, head-ups from strangers, reassuring slaps on shoulders from friends, handshakes and condolences from townspeople, empty words and meaningless gestures, and a hat with a bullet hole in it.
A life with only two sons, a house with an empty bedroom at the end of the landing, a chair no one would ever sit in anymore, a void within his heart, and a damned hat with a bullet hole in it.
Ben squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as if this could rid him of his pain. But shutting out the world didn't ease the pain, because the pain was inside and was part of his very existence, and it would be there forever.
And so Ben clutched the black hat to his chest, and wept.
***fin***