I killed someone once. I know I did because I used to wake screaming with no sounds coming, to justify what I’d done.

I killed someone once. I don’t want to remember her name, but I do and I don’t like what I have become.

I killed someone once. Her body still lives, but from that day on she sung only sad songs of misery and despair.

I killed someone once. I am a murderer. I stand accused, stock still pleading guilty, as I declare.

I killed someone once. “Tell me you love me.” Was all that she asked, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even lie.

I killed someone once. I could have said, “yes, I love you, and always will,” but I didn’t. Why?

I killed someone once, but it was not her; it was I.

Anything But Hackneyed…. Amazon…Com

Anything But Hackneyed…. Amazon…Co


About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
This entry was posted in Author/Writer, Raconteur. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s