My Father woke up one morning with destruction on his mind and murder on his lips. No amount of pleading from my little sister could change his decision or weaken his resolve and the fact that my mother was not home only made the situation more hopeless. Today was the day to make his "vision" into a reality he told himself and went into the garage to search for a means to an end. He came out brandishing a chainsaw.
Before I go on to describe the next part in this bloody take, first let me tell you about my friend and maybe you will be able to grasp what he meant to me. He was like any good friend should be; strong and steady, never faultering and always standing tall. Always there for me, be it night or day and never turning me away. We would see each other everyday, despite our busy lives. But even so, I could see that I was not the only one he was important to. He often opened his arms to all manner of beings, even going so far as providing shelter and a home to those who had none, all without asking for anything in return. He was, neigh is, an example to us all and his life was cut short. He was cut off at the knee's and had no means of defending himself.
It sickens me to think that this hideous crime was pre-meditated and carried out by someone with a clear head, and not in a moment of rage or insanity.
The tears are falling thick and fast now, and I can't bring myself to describe the murder but I believe the pictures speak for themselves and you will be able to paint your own picture as to what happened on that dark day. But please realise that these pictures are not pretty and I would recommend a strong stomach to those who wish to sight them...
Here he is, healthy and beautiful.
And then, a brutal end.
