Did it have to be you dad?

I grew up in the countryside back in the 70’s. I grew under the care of my dad; the two of us made an awesome family. My mum died during my birth. It was so unfortunate that I never shared her love. Back then, there my dad used to have a shotgun which he always talked about it being for self-defense.

Most of the times I wondered whether he really needed one since there were no active threat that I had encountered as I grew up. Anyway, not much about it I could describe because it was always under lock and key in his private room to which on he had access to.

When I was 15, I came to realize why he really needed the gun. That day I came from school as usual and had a change of clothes. Then I proceeded to the farm to check on how the stallions were fairing. I noticed that the favorite one, which we had nicknamed Rick, and which dad loved the most was absent. I presumed that he must have taken it. I gathered some fodder and gave the rest. As I was heading back to the farm house, I saw Rick trotting back home. He was running but not fast. I waited till he arrived and opened the barn for him to join the others.

My sixth sense told me that something was wrong. There was no way that the horse could have left alone without the company of others or without someone riding one. I glanced through their enclosure and all seemed normal. Then something else came into my mind; dad used to have a tight schedule working at a garage and there was no way he could have been out there in the field riding a horse on a work day. I tried to figure what could have happened in vain.

I decided to head back home. As soon as I arrived there, the door was banged opened and dad bulged in bleeding. I rushed to his aid. He had fallen on the ground panting and blood oozing profusely from his shoulder. I was shocked and filled with fear instantly. I tried to help him on his feet and all he mattered to me were instructions telling me to go and hide in the basement.

I couldn’t comprehend what was happening and was thus hesitant. By this time, he was dragging himself towards his private room. The sound of a braking truck was heard nearby and my dad shouted to me to go and hide. I knew something was terribly amiss. I had to heed to what he was saying. But if I was going down there, then he was to come with me so that we could hide together.

Hearing my position, he became stern and told me that hiding there alone was the best way to save my life. If we did it together, there were chances that we would be tracked down and gunned down together.

Swiftly, I crept into the dark room and waited for the unknown. I heard my dad cocking his shotgun and shortly after the door way kicked open and what followed was a fierce exchange of gunshots. I wanted to scream but was so afraid that no voice came from my mouth – there was no word that I could utter.

That was the day dad was brutally murdered. He was murdered because of witnessing and providing information to the authorities about a homicide incident that he had earlier witnessed while heading home from work. It happened that he had received a death threat and reported.

Still, the assassins came for him and when they arrived at the garage, he was not present at that moment but from a distance, he saw the men. He then rushed home decided to escape with the stallion only to meet with the assassins. They shot at him and he fell down escaping with a bullet wound in his hand in the nearing bushes.

Knowing that they would come for me eventually if he went missing, he decided to come back home just to save me but met his fate.