September 17th 1995… Most thirteen-year-old boys are consumed
with worries about peer pressure, puppy love, and puberty.
On this particular evening, I was sitting in the back of a police car in
handcuffs, headed to the police station. I was about to be questioned for
the homicide that I had committed earlier that evening.
A few hours earlier, I had shouldered a loaded 12-gauge shotgun,
aimed it at my neighbor’s face and pulled the trigger. At the other end of
that gun stood an undeserving young person who lost their life to an
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish