I looked around confused at where I was. When I suddenly remembered something more important. My dad was dead and there was nothing I could do about it. I looked through the small window from the small room. I asked the formal dressed people passing what happened to my dad. One answered, “well you killed him of course!”. It was all a big mistake and I was the one who would suffer the mistake. I put my face in my hands. At least this would give me time to think about what had happened to my dad. Then, it came to me! It was a horrible truth. But it was the truth. My mom had come to visit him to “talk” when I was in school. I remembered that my mom always kept a gun in hand “for protection” she’d say when I’d give her a strange look. Those next few days I felt terribly lonely. I knew that when I got out not having my father would be the same. Lonely. Loneliness.