Letter From Speedy Stevie

By Heather M. Browne

Posted on

I’m sorry Daddy, I made you run. I tried to be good.
I’m your Speedy Stevie, cuz I’m so fast and loud. I screamed real loud that night, huh?
I didn’t know the coppers would come.
I shouldn’ta tried to make you stop.
Or go.

Mama cries all night long, holding her pillow real tight, so I don’t hear.
Trying to make everything white & soft like Snowflake’s fur.
Wishing her pillow was you.

She says it’s not my fault. I was just scared and wanted it to stop.
But she never cried all night ‘til now.
I got so mad yesterday I broke that plane we made. Threw it so hard
it flew straight out the window.
Oh Daddy, I laughed! But Mama screamed and yelled, wouldn’t let me help
or pick up the pieces. Her hand got cut too, kinda bad.

Mommy needs you back so she can sleep.

I tried to take Johnny,
cuz I don’t think he’s bad.
But I’m just fast and not that strong.
So I took his pillow & let him cry into it, just like Mama.
Making everything white & soft like Snowflake’s fur.
Wishing his pillow was you.
He kicked real good, Daddy – a fighter. He beat me with those little fists
as long as he could.
I bet when he got big he coulda been a real fighter, like you.

I left him there all quiet,
so Mama can rest. She’s real tired Daddy.

So come home now, Dad. I’ve run away with my loud, loud voice.
Runaway, like you.

Heather M. Browne