Daddy Is A Killer

The gun fired and it was aimed directly at her heart. I watched as I ran to try and

save her. I was too late. I could not stop the bullet from hitting her. She was my

best friend. I told her everything; she knew everything about me - possibly even

more than I knew about myself. The gunman looked at me and told me he was

sorry, but than he ran out of the door. Here I am, fifteen years old, alone in a room

with my mother dead on the floor because my father came home drunk again

accusing her of things that were not true. Daddy always left when times were hard.


I called the police and told them the entire story. My family had just

moved to this town because we were having troubles back home, and daddy’s

favorite thing to do is to leave when life is cumbersome. I woke up in a new home on

September 18, 2000. I didn’t wish to go to school in this town. I did not want to

wake up at six a.m. just to go somewhere I didn’t want to be. I tried to tell my

parents this, but they think everything is resolved by a new environment. Being

forced, I got dressed in my favorite outfit just to try and put a little bit of an

optimistic look on the day. I ran downstairs and grabbed a glass of orange juice on

my way out of the door. Although I didn’t think I would like this new school, it had to

be better than sitting at home listening to mom and dad yell at each other.


I entered home room. Girls started making fun of my hairstyle. They did

where it was a whisper, but it was purposely loud enough to be heard. They decided

they did not like me before they even knew my name. It’s amazing how shallow

some people are. The guys didn’t like me because the girls didn’t like me, and

home room was a complete disaster. At lunch, I ate alone in the corner at a table

by myself. No one would be seen with the “new kid”.


After school, I went home. It was so quiet. Mom was in the kitchen

doing dishes. Dad was still at work. He never came home until he was sure the

house was clean, usually after he had a couple of drinks at the local bar. I helped

mom clean up the house, then I told her how much I hated the new school. Mom

said to try and give it another chance because she was sure that as soon as they

got to know me, they would all love me. Mom was always really warm-hearted. I

asked mom if I could go for a walk in the woods behind the house, she told me I

could, but I had to be home in time for dinner.


As I went for my walk, I began to admire the way things work by

themselves. The birds know when to hunt for their food and animals have natural

instincts that tell them things. I wish I had a natural instinct when daddy was on his

way home from the bar. He hit mom a lot. She wore turtle necks and scarves as

well as sunglasses and a lot of make-up. She told me he never meant it because

he was never himself when he was drunk. She didn’t know she was hurting me as

well as herself staying with him. Sometimes I want to hate the man, it seems

almost impossible that someone that inhumane is the person I get my traits from. I

walked around the woods pondering these things, and eventually I decided it was

time to go home.


Walking down the driveway, I could hear daddy yelling at mom. He was

accusing her of lying about going out with her friends on Friday night. He believed

she had gone on a date with some other man. Daddy is crazy; he doesn’t

remember the sun shines during the day and the moon at night. I went with mom on

Friday. A few of her girlfriends came along and then we went shopping and to the

yogurt shop. I could not tell daddy that though, because he would tell me I was

helping her with her lies. I sat on the front steps as I listened to them. Many nights I

didn’t sleep, I just stayed awake listening to my parents argue over things that

never happened.


I could hear daddy calling mom a lot of names that were not appropriate

anywhere. He used profound language and he was eager to upset her. Mom cried a

lot, she never argued with him though. You could always hear her sobbing at night

and praying to God to help daddy with his problems. The screaming could still be

heard through the walls of the house. I heard something fall, and it sounded like it

broke. I finally ran inside and when I did, I was in instant shock. I heard daddy

say “you’ll never lie to me again, you whore”, and then he pulled the trigger and the

bullet landed right in her heart. I tried to run and take the bullet for her, but she died

almost instantly. Daddy stopped, looked at me shaking and said he was sorry. He

then dropped the gun and ran out of the door.



I called the police telling them the story. They came out and did their

work. They have daddy locked up right now. I don’t know how long he’ll be in there.

Hopefully, if he ever gets out, he will be rehabilitated. I have to live with my

grandmother now. It isn’t the worst thing that could have happened, but it isn’t the

best either. I had to change schools, and I have made a friend or two. Sometimes

it’s really hard to deal with the loss of my mother. I wake up at night crying and

other times I can’t sleep at all. There are some days that I know she’s in a better

place, but there are also days when I do not want to wake up.



People in high school think drinking is okay and that they can handle

their alcohol. My dad thought he could handle his as well, but it cost him not only

his and his wife’s life, but his as well as his daughter’s. I had to start all over from

scratch, more than a couple of times just because every time my dad messed up

and did something stupid when he was drunk - we moved. I watched him shoot my

mother, and although I didn’t pull the trigger, sometimes I feel as though it is my

fault. They have me in therapy now, and I’m supposed to be getting better, however

sometimes I only feel worse. I watched him kill my mother, my best friend, the one

person that’s been there from day one for me. She would have said it wasn’t him, it

was the alcohol. I would not agree with her though, he had to make the choice to

consume the alcohol.