When I was a little boy, probably 8 or so, I used to live with my mom, my step-dad and his two sons, both aged 30 ish.
My step dad was a businessman and while he wasn't rich, he did some shrewd business at times and one of the things he did well was buy a magnificent, huge historical farm right outside the old city walls for cheap and that's where I grew up. One of his sons was closer to his 20s and, later I found out, a heroin addict.
But to me he was just Luis. He played football with me, in fact I bugged him to play with me the day before he left for France, we went swimming, took me with him to feed the dogs or on occasion down to the pub for errands.
Because he was relapsing and my step-dad had paid bail for him not to go to jail a few months earlier (was caught trafficking cocaine), my step-dad spoke to a cousin of his and organized for Luis to come and help during the fall harvest, figuring it would do him some good and keep him clean. Luis agreed and they booked the plane tickets to France together.
My mom and my step dad dropped him off at the airport and came back home. We had a busy day that day, it was harvest day for us as well (grew grapes and made wine) and we had all sorts of people coming and going. I remember helping with the harvest and then squashing the grapes with my little feet later in the evening.
I was sitting in the kitchen after everyone left, must have been 11 pm or so, eating a bowl of chili my mom had cooked. I saw Luis come through the door holding something, but his face was... Somber. I'll never forget it. It was the face of evil, of a man with ill intentions. Still, I thought nothing of it, at the time I thought it was just odd he was home when I was told he'd be away. I commented with my mom I had just seen Luis and then we heard a gun shot.
My mom shielded me while he shepherded everyone outside, including his brother and his girlfriend, and made us kneel execution style. I vaguely remember my mom begging for him not to kill me and I naively just pleaded 'please don't kill me, I'm young, and neither my mommy'.
The rest is a haze. I remember the smell of gun powder, I heard a click and the touch of metal on the back of my head but nothing happened. Eventually he ran for it, we went back inside and found he shot his own dad point blank through the heart while he was coming out of the shower.
Just a day earlier I had been playing football with this man and he had given me a warm hug. And then he tried to kill a kid. We all survived only because the gun jammed after he shot it the first time, he confessed in court he didn't want to rob us - he just wanted to kill everyone. Bizarre.