Self Defense or Murder

I'm trying to fall asleep, but Dad is fighting with Mom again about things I don't know.

One sheep, two sheep, three sheep…four sheep…Not working. What about singing that song I learned today in school in my head? I can't. I'm getting the words to the song mixed up with the bad words I hear in the living room. At last I decide to get a drink of water.

I tiptoe silently downstairs to the kitchen. When I arrive I peek through the door at Mom and Dad, and saw something a boy shouldn't have seen.

Dad took his lighter which was on the table, and put Mom on fire. She screamed. I stared in horror, never feeling this scared in my entire life. And the look on Dad's face. It was anger.

About ten minutes later, Mom crumpled to the floor, very still. I knew she was dead. And I was just ten.

Three Years Later

...

"Jaime!" my dad yelled. "What?" I yelled back, just sitting down on the sofa. I had this weird feeling in the morning that something bad was going to happen. It was like someone had whispered it into my ear. "Hurry up and get me a beer!"

I went to the refrigerator and pulled out an open bottle of beer and started up the stairs to Dad's room. But just as I was about to hand it to him, I felt a push against my back, resulting in me spilling it all over his laptop he used for work and me falling to the floor.

But no one was there, just Dad looking at me real mad. But I felt something! I got up quickly, backing up into the wall, knowing how Dad was when he was angry. I must have crossed the line, because suddenly his face became really calm, though I knew he was not in the inside. "Come here, Jaime. Come to Daddy." I walk over to him slowly. If I didn't obey, he would hit me like last time. Then his face changes to fierce, as if he thought looking friendly would get me to come over to him.

"That laptop had all my work saved on it! How could you be such a careless brat?"

"I'm sorry" I mumbled. "Sorry isn't enough! Now go to your room and stay there!"

I turned towards my room and started to walk when I heard him say under his breath, "Stupid. Just like his mother." I froze with red hot anger. In my entire life, he had never said that about her. Now hecrossed the line for me.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"Dad screamed. "DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER THAT!"I screamed back. "SINCE WHEN WAS IT OKAY TO YELLAT ME?"

"SINCE YOU TURNED TO SATAN!" I bellowed, my temper out of control. He rushed towards me with his hand raised to knock me unconscious, when I spotted a kitchen knife my dad brought up to cut his large sub. Without thinking, I grabbed it and began stabbing him to death. Without thinking.

Blood surrounded his dead body on the floor. I dropped the knife, shocked that I had done such an evil thing. I'm a murderer. Just like my father. And I killed him.I scream, and scream and scream and scream. I rush to the phone, sobbing, and dialed 911, hoping for whatever reason he was still alive.

When I was told he was dead, my heart stopped. I re-told the whole story to the police, still crying, and I was led into a police car, unsure what was going to happen next.