It's sort of funny how things turn out. Funny, but definitely creepy.
Without the druggie dead in our neighborhood I would have never ended up knowing that an old childhood friend of mine was brutally murdered last summer.
I knew about the death but I never knew who the victim was. Then I heard his name and hoped it was someone else. When I saw a picture of the victim, I knew.
He was drowned and when he didn't die during the drowning sequence, they beat him up with shovels and stood on his throat. They sung happy songs (children's play songs) to cover up the sounds of killing that dear boy. He didn't die of all the kicking, beating and tormenting, so they buried him. He finally met his death and choked in dirt. He was left in his shallow grave but it wasn't enough for the three murderers. They dug him up, wrapped him and moved him 20 kilometers away from the city and put him in an empty house where the police found him after his worried relatives filed him missing.
I've known that boy since I was 12. He was a hunter, an avid fisherman. He loved to make lures for fly-fishing. He served in the second most prestigeous military unit in the country and served well. He enjoyed his drink, but always in a positive manner. He had many, many friends and relatives. He chose these three guys as friends and had to pay for it dearly.
I used to play on PlayStation with him and his kid brother. He introduced me to hockey trading cards, to their gold fish and other kids to play with. I never had other kids to play with at home. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere and because my shit-of-a-mum beat me up constantly for no reason whatsoever I could never bring friends over. So it was not before I was taken from her that I learned to actually talk with other kids and play.
Rest in Peace, dear friend.
No matter what the murderers defend themselves with or how many lies they tell and are able to feed the court, we know you are a star. We know the truth.
"Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly."— Neil Gaiman (Fables and Reflections)