'Today we mourn the deaths of two people, Mrs Alice Smith and Mr John Smith. We bless their souls and pray that they make their journey to heaven.' Those were the last words I heard before I reminisced the memories I had had with my parents. It was a journey I am glad I had. It is said that a single step begins one's journey. I suppose that is true. One step and you make the crucial decision to either continue or to go back. Whatever path you take is up to the person taking it.
I remember everything as if it had been yesterday. A start to the usual day with a twist. A big hole opening in my heart. A sudden feeling of loneliness. My parents had been murdered by a person whom they had trusted dearly. I was told my parents had died at his hands. He was to be executed.
The details of my parents' death was not clear. There was a lack of evidence on what had actually happened, but the few strands of evidence pointed towards one person, Jack Hayes. DNA testing on the fingerprints, that were found on the murder weapon, showed that it belonged to Jack Hayes. The murder weapon was a knife that had blood on it, that was proven to be a mixture of both of my parents' blood. The approximate size of the wounds were about the dimensions of the knife.
