If I live to be 100, I will never forget the story my friend Devon told to me one Friday night not too long ago about a little baby boy named Benjamin Sargent, just five months old. I wish I hadn't read this. Do so only with the knowledge that you've been warned. This isn't gore. It's worse. I don't know how else to warn you. The details of the neglect and abuse he encountered in his tiny little life--I cannot bring myself to type them into this space. I am trying to think of a good reason for posting his picture. The truth is, I wish I didn't know about Benjamin. The night I heard about him, I called my brother and tried to unburden my mind by telling it to him. It didn't work. We both wept easily and violently. I told Rob then, "I think I know what it must have felt like, that first human glimpse into the knowledge of good and evil. There I stood, at a Friday night cookout, the Garden's newest Adam, stumbling naked and nauseous.
It's been well over a month now, but I can't forget. God, I wish I could forget.
This is the house where Benjamin died, now for sale.
The filth masquerading as the human biological variables that brought Benjamin into existence are awaiting trial in November in Peoria. I have such poetic imaginings for their wait. God forgive me and help me to want the forgiving. A searing, white-hot pulse of vengeance radiates from the center of my brain, hurting me with its intensity.
1 comment:
And, these sacks of shit have another child? If Lyons doesn't go after the death penalty than something is wrong with this world. These two need to fry.
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