When I was 12 or so, I lived in a part of the country that was Deep South, lots of pine and wonderful forrest to explore. My friends and I practically lived out their. We had our own huts we had a rope with a bike handlebar that we could ride from tree stand to tree stand. To us it was our land..but it was out behind my house and my friend, a Hispanic guy lived across the forested pasture across the creek. We used to make ninja stars out of nails with electrical tape. He was down near the creak below me, throwing the Nina stars into the side of the creek. We had found this large hatchet/axe with about 1/3 of the Halft broken off. I was trying to cut a tree down so we could build a bride across the creek. Another friend was there, just screwing around somewhere near me up above my other friend. My hands got sweaty and as I swung the axe left my hand, went about 15 feet or so and went directly into the back of his head. My other friend and I froze. Suddenly my other friend ran home, about 3 miles away. I checked on my hurt friend, to me in my mind he was dead, he made no movement and I wasn't getting any pulse (I doubt if I really knew how to take a pulse but I thought I did).
I walked home. Walked in the living room and said "mom, I hit ___ in the head with and axe on accident..he is dead and he is down in the creek." I felt totally numb..void of feeling. And that scared me. I thought I was in a dream maybe.
Mom called his parents and the police and she made me go back out their. He was dead. If I had ran the whole way and saved about 30 mins of time, maybe he would have lived. He would have been permanently brain damaged but maybe not. I dunno. The police believed me bc my other friend told them exactly what happened. I didn't get grounded. But I grounded myself. I went to the funeral. His family wouldn't talk to me. They moved away. Every time I go home I take the trail that we had worked for 2 years to clear, and go to the spot.. tree larger, still with hacks in it. The creek is now full of trash and disgusting. I just go, and sit down for a few minutes and walk back. I have to do it, I don't know why.
It was so long ago that now I don't really blame myself, although I was certainly at fault. But I do feel guilt. No one I grew up with brings it up but I know that behind my back the story followed me all the way through high school.
So strange. Life is just strange. It's not right, it was pointless. It taught me nothing other than to love people that I love harder and stronger. Why would God allow that? I don't want to go into spirituality with anyone on this, I just can't believe like I did before that day, and I never will. And nothing anyone can say will change it. It's just the terms I've come to. Shit happens. Little, trivial shit..big, life changing shit. Good shit, bad shit. Shit just happens. I do believe in karma. I think collectively it's a domino effect. But other than that, I avoid philosophy now (for years after that I was a philosophy nut). No one is ever going to understand it, why waist your emotion and life's time trying to. I now find comfort in the fact that it's to big for me to understand, and that this is ok. I don't need to understand it. I just live.