ROMAN
387
When I get worn out and can't stand it any longer I will drop off to
sleep and then it is worse than ever. I have nightmares about
Roman and how he looked that night when I busted his head open.
The Sheriff and the niggers all thought it was done with an axe,
but it was a hatchet.
I went to the hack of his shack about midnight and called him
out. I stood right beside the doorstep and when he stepped out I
hit him with the hatchet. I hit him so hard that it knocked him
down. He just grunted when he went down and when I pulled the
hatchet out of his head he just kind of kicked once and that was
all.
They didn't open the coffin at the burying, so I didn't get to see
him then. But when I go to sleep I see him. The hatchet is still
sticking in his head. He's sinking down. But his hands are clawing
out in front of him like he knew it was me that hit him and was
trying to grab hold of me. Sometimes I wish to God I hadn't
killed him.
