Night came and Kermit finally was forced to acknowledge his body's needs. He was shaking with cold and he could no longer feel his toes but he didn't care. He wouldn't allow himself to care. Someone came out and forced him inside. He wanted to resist and put up a fight but the pain was to great. He was dimly aware of someone driving him home and a distant chatter he assumed was from the driver. Probably trying to rationalize what had happened and explain it wasn't Kermit's fault. Kermit carefully hid his feelings. His bosses and co-workers always said that no one could read Kermit except for his eyes. He closed his eyes ,feining sleep until the car stopped and someone helped him inside another house. The victim's house. His house.
As he walked inside, he expected his son to come barrelling down the stairs.
"Daddy, Daddy." he would call but the sound never came and the small,warm
body never hugged his. As Kermit sank onto the couch, his wife never came to
massage his shoulders or ask him how his day was. The grief had destroyed
her mind. He could hear her sobs from upstairs in their son's room. The
driver, Kermit really should try to figure out who he was but he just didn't
care, walked upstairs to try and comfort the woman but Kermit knew it would
be of no use.
He spread out on the couch and felt a sharp object knee him in his back. He
cursed and pulled out the object to examine a pair of green sunglasses. His
son's favorite pair. Fresh tears moistened Kermit's eyes at the many
memories of his son wearing the sunglasses. He had even tried to wear them
to bed on more than one occasion. Footsteps could be heard. The mysterious
driver was coming back down the stairs.
Quickly, Kermit slipped the glasses
on to hide his tears.
