lahondas
New Member
At night we all think. We think about what happened that day, or other days before or even years ago. Tonight I will remember something that happened a long time ago. Movie that I watched tonight had reminded me. I was young, around 8 years old; I witnessed a devastation that would never leave my eyes. I will never forget. It was just a regular day. I would go play in this farm I wasn’t allowed in. it was big and had lots of hiding places, so I wasn’t seen or heard. My own private playground. This day I saw my stepfather, he had never gone there before. I saw him hitting something in the ground. I climbed up a tree to see more. He was beating for what I remember, a mans face. With a possible rock or brick. I saw the man holding onto my stepfather’s shirt, grasping it with a fist. But then it quickly dropped. All this red on the skin, just rolling down his face into the grass, on the ground, shading the whole area around his body with a deep dark red. The man looked very dirty, he looked alive still in my eyes, but I know that he was dead. No human could survive that. After that incident days later I learned what death was. How someone can be hurt so much and not move. Then not move ever again. It confused me, but I started to understand. I watched my stepfather drag the body, through all that grass, and he was so limp. His body moved so heavy and weak. Like his bones where not connected inside of his body. I never saw anything like it. No movie I ever saw could reenact it as real as I saw it that day. I didn’t cry, I didn’t think of what it was I was seeing. I was too young to understand what it was. So I just watched. It was like I couldn’t stop watching. He finally stopped dragging him, and picked him up instead. Put him in the trunk of a car. I new it wasn’t our car that my step dad drove. So I was even more curious whose it was. As I grew up I learned it was probably the victim’s car. Then my stepfather went back out in the field. He picked up something from the ground, as far as he was it looked to be a large stick, but the closer he came, it was a gun. Later on I learned the exact type of gun, but at the time, I only new it as a big gun. It was brown with dirt and grass all over it except the tip. He threw it in the side window, and drove off. I sat in the tree for a while still. Just staring at the bloody ground. I finally got down and went to look at it closer. There was more than blood. I saw light colored blobs in different places. Then I saw chunks of grass, just lying on top of the ground. It was probably from the man pulling up grass with his hands. At the time I didn’t know why there was grass, or so much blood. I didn’t know what the yellowish pieces of flesh were either. I looked at the brick my step father used, it had so much on it, and I could tell what color it was originally. I saw a little ways from the bloody area, a little piece of round metal. Which was a bullet. I couldn’t wait to show it to my mom. At the time I didn’t think it had to do with the gun or that it was the evidence or that it was a bullet shell. To me it was just something I found. After looking around more, I finally went home. Showed mom the bullet. She looked at me weird asked me where I got it. I told her in the field. I never told her what happened. Maybe I forgot it then, or maybe I didn’t think it was important to tell. I did tell her I saw dad in a different car. But I don’t think she believed me. I never told this to anyone before. Just kept it to myself. I have always wondered who that guy was that my step father killed. Why he killed him, and if anyone even missed him. I guess it will always be on my mind. I only wish I told someone, so my stepfather would have gone to jail, but it’s too late. Even though I’m the evidence.
