The day I became a killer

View from Torridon - a place we both loved

"FUCK" John shouted.

It was enough to rouse me from my sleep on the back seat.

Next thing I knew I was out of the car screaming at the top of my voice "Bonnie, get out now! Get the fuck out. Now. Bonnie, now!"

A man put his arm on my shoulder. I turned to punch him. He was quicker than me and ducked. Then pinned my arms to my side.

"Mate, you're bleeding" he said. "Let me take you to the bar and sort you out."

I looked down, and saw blood dripping on the floor. "No bother, just a nose bleed" I said.

"Fine" he replied. "We can sort that out at the bar." and put his arms firmly around my shoulders, steering me into the building a short distance away. I remember feeling the heat when the car caught fire as we walked passed it.

Later I was to realise I had a cut to my forehead needing 14 stitches, fractured 5 ribs, and the impact of the car crash had pushed my teeth through my cheek to the point I could close my mouth and breathe through my cheek. That was another 22 stitches. My nose was unharmed.

I remember little of what happened next until being in a hospital ward. And then being wheeled into intensive care unit. Where my mum was next to me on a bed. I didn't realise it at the time, though she was blue and wheezing. She turned, looked at me, and said "my poor sweet baby".

"I'm fine, mum" I replied. And those where the last words I ever spoke to her. I will always regret not saying such simple words as "I love you" or "You are the everything". But I didn't. She was my mum and she'd always be there, right?

Wrong. She died a couple of hours later.

Months later the coroners report was released. She died from severe chest compression caused by seatbelt injuries. This is why she was blue and wheezing - couldn't get enough air into her lungs.

The coroners report didn't say as much, though I knew why this was. I was in the back seat behind her. Not wearing a seatbelt. When our car hit the other one in a head on head collision I was propelled forward. The left side of my head hit the car upright, the right side hit the headrest pushing my teeth through my cheek. And my whole body force hit the back of my mums seat, moving it forward and crushing her chest against the seat belt.

I killed her. I killed the most precious think I have ever known.

I have to live with this for the rest of my life.

Never got round to saying it, but love you mum. Always in my heart.

  • The photo is Torridon. This whole incident happened in the Scottish highlands - a place me and my mum both loved.

UPDATE: I've added some context to this story in my next post, called Who the hell is Bonnie?


Self-pity is a horrible thing.

It is. Are you my therapist?

You need one!

I have one. Have for many years now.

You have a conversation on Twitter questioning why anyone would leave a negative comment, suggesting there is something wrong with that person. But accept uncritically all the praise. Who exactly has the problem? If you blog accept not everyone agrees or give it up.

I did not suggest there was anything wrong with that person (you I assume?). I just wondered why bother - what's anybody getting out of it?

I'd say the response I got from Twitter was more sympathy rather than praise. I also didn't think my post was self-pitying, rather me writing down what I felt. Not sure where the line is between self-expression and self-pity is, but I don't think I asked for sympathy.

Finally, I blog for me. I find it helpful and enjoy it. I don't expect anybody to agree or disagree, though I'm wondering what you're getting out of the comments that you're leaving - especially being the cloak of anonymity?

You agreed  with all the comments on Twitter that are positive. But. Moaned about a negative comment? You moaned in public. You told the word someone commented negatively. You did that. If it's a problem, if you don't  like comments that are not all, 'you're wonderful', shut up. Stop moaning on Twitter. Why does it matter? Why tell the world?

I thanked people for the positive comments. I didn't with the negative comments - I asked for further explanation. Didn't get any. I think my reaction is quite normal

It's great isn't it,?| Your echo chamber!


Maybe you should turn off comments. You'd be in a safe space then.

You Feminist you.

'My Journey to Feminism.'

What! You had to learn women were you equal?

You're a fucking moaning, self- pitying tosser aren't you? Off you go to Twitter to tell them all how someone disagrees with your, boring, normal life.

It's so worth reading. As long as you and your, 'echo chamber', think it's wonderful.

I passed an opinion. You've made it an issue.!


See, you not really making points, just attacking me. That's not debate or discussion - just trolling

Just to remind you. You've taken a comment and made it a public.



You make it public when you posted on my website. Nobody make you

BTW. I've been called a cunt and Kell has threatened to come and kill me on Twitter.

Yeah, that's grown up isn't it?  Keyboard warriors...

I don't see you asking these fucks to shut up.


You've built a tiny world of bullshit around this haven't you?

Remember this?:

"Self-pity is a horrible thing"

Well you haven't wasted any opportunity to milk it have you?

Why is not knowing my name important. It's a comment about you. Who makes it doesn't matter

Enough, leave it.


You still haven't said why you felt it self-pitying. I'd be interested to hear.

I'll leave it when you do

Add new comment

Filtered HTML

  • Web page addresses and e-mail addresses turn into links automatically.
  • Allowed HTML tags: <p> <a> <em> <strong> <blockquote> <ul> <ol> <li>
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.

Plain text

  • No HTML tags allowed.
  • Web page addresses and e-mail addresses turn into links automatically.
  • Lines and paragraphs break automatically.
This question is for testing whether you are a human visitor and to prevent automated spam submissions.