Prologue
March 19, 2017. 2:47 P.M. The day my watch died was a week after my birthday and one minute after my father died from the passenger airbag crucially fracturing his neck and causing contusions on his face, internal organs, and chest. He didn’t wear his seatbelt.
Accidents happen. He's with Jesus now. It wasn't your fault. John's in a better place. Jesus spared you. God needed another angel.
People like to think these phrases are comforting to me but they're not because they're lies. God doesn't exist because if he really was watching over us, he would have saved my father because he was a saint, an absolute saint. So if God doesn't exist, neither does his son which means that my father has just fallen into a state of non-existence where he is unreachable by both dead and living. And it was my fault because I looked away from the road.
And the reason I looked was to see my new dog, Tasha. So in a sense, I could be cruel and blame Tasha but that's just lying to myself because I had the choice to look or not and I did.
I looked and he died and Tasha is all that remains.
