25 years late...

            Emptiness…that’s the word that I am feeling right now. It feels as if I just had someone grabbed my heart right out of my chest and started stabbing the bloody organ that fills my heart with nothing but love for my family. That person whoever is stabbing my heart right now has never made a rage like that come out of my body.

            When I had found out that my child was just brutally murdered, my heart sank to the fiery pits of hell as chills ran down my neck through my back to the bottom of my feet. Walking around with that kind of heavy weight sucks ass. It’s as if I have chains linked on my feet, attached to two cinderblocks as I get pushed into the Mystic River.

            I’m starting to see things. Everywhere I go, I see my daughter Katie’s face. When I see the mailman cross onto my street I see her as if she was that hairy, old man that delivers my morning input on how well the Bruins are doing. I can barely eat as well. Cheerios piss me off so much because they form my daughters name after I pour milk into my bowl.

            All I can think about is how I can find out who had done this to my daughter, and how I can get back at him or her before the police find out who they are. Don’t get me wrong, I think the police do I good job. But shit this heavy, I can just see how bad they are going to fuck it up and make a guilty murderer innocent. I made a promise to my dead daughter, and I intend on upholding that promise. Whoever is guilty of this, whoever may know any knowledge of It and can’t do the right thing. My hands are tied and I will find them, and when I do…I will kill them.