Shooting somebody. It does something to you. Even when you later come to realize you didn't even kill them. It changes you. It warps you. It makes you realize that sometimes certain things are necessary. Even if they're not what most people would call right. I know. In my heart. That this is one of those things. I can feel it in my bones. This is. Defense. Self defense. Pre-emptive self-defense. And I know. That argument could be made. I see them now. They're both in plain view. I hesitate a moment. Wondering if this just might not work. I see my cousin. Standing there. What if I'm wrong about this? What if he doesn't push her out of the way? I bite my lip and think. No. Even if it's only on pure instinct. I press my foot to the pedal. Floor it completely. I see her. Completely shocked. And he is predictable as I know he is. He pushes her out of the way. And I slam into him with the car. I see him fall to the ground. And I drive away. As quickly as I can. Now I know I've done the right thing. I've made him pay. For all the lies. For all the deception. He tricked us. I had to do this. Not just for me. But for my family. My mother. My father. All of us. He tricked us. He deceived us. He flirted with me. He made me think that he wanted me. And then when I finally flirted back. He told me he was my brother. He made me sick with myself. When all along I should've only been sick with him. I should've known. I should've known better. And when he feigned his false concern over my sex life I should have known that he wasn't concerned for me. He was jealous. Jealous of what I'd found. Jealous of what I had. Send me away to protect me? You didn't send me away to protect me. You sent me away so that you could screw my brother. Or at least the guy that I thought was my brother. And as much as it breaks my heart. I forgive you my love. Because. I know it was his fault. It was all his fault. And that's why I had to do this. Not just for me. Not just for my family. But for us. Don't you know. How badly I need you? I don't think you do. I had to do this. It was self-defense. Pre-emptive. Self-defense. I look up into the mirror. And realize that there are tears in my eyes. My mascara is running. But why have I shed these tears? No, they're not for him. I suppose a part of me was afraid that he wouldn't push her out of the way. And if I had hit my own cousin with a car, then what would that make me? But he did push her out of the way. This plan worked perfectly. And here's a question. What if I don't make it to the airport? What if I do get caught? My love. I wonder for a moment. Is there still a place in your heart for me? Or has that con artist made you forget all about me? Would you be willing to defend me? Or would you leave me to rot in prison? Does it even really matter? No. Because I am going to get away with this. I'll be out of town as quickly as I got here. Nobody even has to know I came. I'm sure they'll call me tomorrow. To tell me what's happened to him. I know my mother. She'll cry. She'll cry for him. Completely oblivious to all the wrong that he's done. I feel so sad for her. And this profound sense of loss overcomes me. She needs to know and yet I can't tell her. But if he dies, I guess it won't really matter. If he dies. All will be right with the world again. All will be right with my world at least. And I'll have to fly back into town for the funeral. My love. You'll need a shoulder to cry on. You'll be mine again. I just know it.