[ WP ] When someone is murdered , their name appears on the skin of the killer . You wake up with a name on your arm and no knowledge of how it got there .

I wake up in the hospital, in the dark. My head is pounding and my arm is itching. I struggle to get up; flashes of memory from yesterday bursting in my head. Finding the letter from Anna when I reached home. I had married her right out of high school, just before I took a job at the local factory. 
 
 Our two lovely kids.. Ben and Kai.. the pain in my heart is more than the throbbing in my head, as I remember their smiles. I remember tiptoeing into their room, with Anna, just to see them sleeping innocently. Kai, my sweet younger son, had been so looking forward to camp. My parents had been taking him there, when the accident happened. No one found the driver. 
 
 Our lives, so bright and hopeful till then, turned gloomy. Yes, I turned to drink, more than I should have, after the funeral. In retrospect, losing my job should have been a warning signal. But I never suspected that Anna would leave with Ben until I stood in an empty bedroom and read her letter. 
 
 I thought I was broken but that really smashed me. I can remember little since then, and only in patches. Eventually I pulled myself together a bit. She would be with her parents. How could she take my son away? She knew how I doted on my kids. We had been sweethearts right through high school. I vowed to get her, to bring them back. The cursed bottle, near full, caught my eye. I needed the courage to face her. 
 
 I do n't remember getting in the car or driving from home. It was dark by then, anyway. 
 
 Someone is fumbling at the door, here. A lady in scrubs switches on the light, bright and painful. 
 
 The bright light brings back memories of the oncoming car, yesterday. 
 
 My eyes squinch shut under the assault of the light. I slowly open one eye a crack to finally take in my surroundings. The itching on my arm pulls my eyes down. I see a tattoo, with the name standing out in black against my pale skin. I still ca n't remember deciding to get my name tattooed, why or when. 
 
 I need to be with my family. I need to see my son again. 

