I’ll never forget my dads scream. He’s a SWAT captain- I’ve never heard him cry. But I mean it when I say it- he screamed at the top of his lungs while I was swimming in the condo pool. I was out in an instant and approaching his locked car. He pried at the locked door, and resulting in smashing the window with his elbow. There I saw him feeling my brothers pulse. He was sitting in the front seat, leaning slightly forward. I walked around the front of the car when my dad told me to run and get my sister and to stay in the room for a long time. But I didn’t listen. I stared at my brother, 19, my best friend, and our thousands of thousands of adventures we lived- zip lining in Costa Rica or playing hours and hours of video games. But he just sat there, blood seeping from his forehead, my dad’s off-duty .45 in his lap. Hearing my dad’s sobs as he held his dead son is something I wouldn’t have had nightmares of. I miss you mckellar. Rest in paradise.
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