Inspired by true events.
Written by: Luthando Mqadi
I walk around with the image of him falling to the floor as he died at my hands. It is surprising though when I think back to that time in my life and being around those people. If it wasn’t for that guy I met, the same guy who turned his back on me when I most needed him most.
I’m stuck in a job that makes me feel like less of a man every day, and people in the community look at me in a bad way because they still see me in that bad light.
I started off as a good little child, a child that never harmed even an ant when it stole some chips from his picnic in the garden. Even when the tooth fairy wouldn’t give me some money, I wouldn’t get mad, and I was always on the good list for Santa at school. Until my dad left us with nothing and went to go raise another family, I hated him for that and I lived with all that resentment for too long. My acting out started off gradually, I would get worked up over anything someone did, no matter how little it was.
The relationship between my mom and I started to diminish, and as time went on, she started drinking a lot.
For a short while, I was known as the neighborhood bully. A lot of people started to keep their distance from me and I started to lose friends, the little that I had.
That fateful weekend when I had a fight with an old classmate, I had no idea then, that the guy that would help me, would later ruin my life.
After the weekend of the 18th of June 2004, my life would take a turn for the worst.
That weekend I had had a fight with an old friend, that’s when I met Phil.
Phil helped me just as had I fallen to the ground after being hit hard on the head.
I would run into him on the Monday after that. When we met, he seemed like a very bubbly guy, he was also well known. We hit it off very well from the start, mainly because we were both heavy drinkers and heavy smokers, I later learned he was also a drug dealer. Slowly, he started taking me with him to go drop off drugs, I met a lot of weird people on our trips. As I started working with him, I was used as the muscle when people refused to pay up. And then came the night I killed a man in front of his young son.
We drove down quite a dark road, late at night to meet a guy that owed us some money, it was raining so there weren’t many people on the road. Phil switched off the engine, “take this, we might need to use it to scare him”, he handed me a gun.
As we walked over to the guy’s car I thought I saw some shadows in the buildings around us.
It was all supposed to happen without any problems.
We were just there to talk to him and get the money he owed us.
He wasn’t hearing reason; it had been like this for a full year.
When I saw him hit Phil, I lost it, ran over pushed him off Phil, we scuffled a bit, and I pulled out a knife.
The next thing I saw was blood on my shirt and the lifeless body of a man on the ground. What I saw as I looked up shattered my whole life, he’s son crying. When the cops came to my house, I knew my life would be over. The cops said they got a tip from someone. I sat in my cell for weeks trying to connect the dots of who would have tipped the cops. Could it have been the little kid?
Was there anyone in those abandoned buildings?
It came to me after Phil came to see me.
He asked ‘did they ever find out who told the cops?’ It hit me at that very moment, he sold me out!
He was the only one that was there with me at the place of the crime and now I have to live with the image of that man looking at me as he took his last breath.
I go on with my life and nobody knows that I walk around bearing the regrets of a killer.