[Serious]Redditors who have had to kill in self defense, Did you ever recover psychologically? What is it to live knowing you killed someone regardless you didn't want to do it?

I grew up in a middle class neighborhood, but when I was about 14, the government put up some section 8 housing just across a big road from our house.

My mom and dad worked together and occasionally would go on business trip/vacations. One particular Friday when I was 16, I was home alone. I had been trying to throw a party, but nothing really panned out. I got bored of watching TV, and eventually went into my basement and smoked a bowl.

Fast forward a couple of hours, I'm fairly stoned on the couch eating nachos and watching a movie in basement. All of a sudden I hear a loud crash followed by some shattering glass.

It's funny how quick you can sober up. My heart starts racing, and instinctively I run to my dad's gun safe in the basement and unlock it, grabbing his M1911 from Vietnam. I didn't even check if it was loaded, which was pretty stupid in hindsight. Meanwhile, I can hear this big guy stumbling around my kitchen, throwing shit around, breaking shit. I yell from the basement stairs with the loudest, meanest, deepest fucking voice I could muster "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU ASSHOLE!"

The guy must have sensed that I was a teenager, because he just continued doing his thing. I told him again, "Get the fuck out of my house!"

This time he got annoyed and started rushing towards me down the stairs, with a big ass knife in his hand. I fucking flick the safety off the gun, and shoot him twice. The first shot went straight into his shoulder, right through one of those thick puffer jackets. This sent the insulation flying everywhere. The next shot was to his neck, and this fucking fountain of blood starts spewing everywhere. He drops the knife and clutches his throat with both hands. He continues to squirm and choke for a good minute, all the while I'm just looking at him, creeped the fuck out.

He eventually stops moving and his eyes glaze over, and the full weight of the situation sunk in. I took my weed and my pipe and stuck them deep into the forest behind my house. Then I called the police and after them, I called my parents.

The police took my statement and the gun and asked if I wanted to get cleaned off. I was confused, then I looked in the mirror and realized I was covered in this guy's blood and feathers from his jacket. I almost barfed, because I remember this specific little piece of skin that was definitely not mine.

I spent the night at my aunt and uncle's house, and my parents came home the night after. They offered to take me to therapy and all this other stuff, but I kept on insisting I didn't need it.

Well, the next monday was a BIG surprise, because I'm in school, telling all of my buddies about what happened and how fucked up it is to kill someone, and then on the school news, a photo of this black kid pops up and the reporter starts talking about how we'll always remember him. I sit there dumbfounded, that's the fucker I killed two nights before.

It turns out the guy I shot was from the section 8 housing and was even on my school's basketball team. That shit was so fucked up, my parents moved to a new house in a nicer neighborhood and sent me to a private day school.

I eventually stopped thinking about the incident as much, but the image of blood and feathers flying everywhere or the kid's last breath will stick with me forever.

/r/AskReddit Thread