Peter took off his mask, trying to say it was a mistake and he didn't know he took the gun loaded with real bullets. Hearing this, my brother punched him in the face and they started fighting. I crawled to my dad's side; his breathing was fading away. I was sobbing and my heart was aching. My dad asked me to run; this time around, I did. As I was outside our house, I heard two gunshots.
By the time the police arrived at our house, my parents and brother's dead bodies were in the sitting room. Peter was nowhere to be found. I told the authorities what happened and who did it. When we went to Peter's residence, his parents said he was at school during the time of the robbery. They said he was working on a project late that night and they were with him on campus and never took their eyes off him, not even once, so it was impossible that he was involved in the robbery.
The police were given an envelope and they left shortly after my uncle arrived. My parents and brother were buried three days after the robbery. Peter was sent outside the country a week after he killed my entire family. My uncle was struggling financially so I couldn't stay with him. I squatted with my friend while I worked several jobs to pay my school tuition and also got a small room for myself.
Over time, I made friends with some guys; I can say they went through hell, conquered it, and crowned themselves. David,nicknamed Death, Leonard, nicknamed Hell Lord, and Samuel , nicknamed Suffer King. These guys were the bad guys in our department. I got closer to them and they taught me how to shoot and kill. They rob houses but never killed anyone. I sometimes go with them.
The shooting of my family that night still haunted me, but I had no choice but to keep going. Peter's parents relocated to a new place and sold their old house.
I never thought there would come a day that I would set my eyes on Peter again.