Prologue

Today had started out great, the sun was shining birds were singing happily. Mum had taken me out shopping this morning but now she was busy on the phone talking to a client. With dad working all day down the station, I was alone so I decided to start my homework. I didn't mind it, English was my favourite subject.

I was only a page into my analysis of  Shakespeare's 'Midsummer's Night Dream' when I heard a knock on the door.

"Coming!" I heard my mother's sing-song voice. I looked down from my window. There were two men talking to my mother in hushed tones. I couldn't see what they looked like, for they were wrapped up as if it was freezing. They talked for quite a while. What could they be talking about? I crept downstairs, but the door slammed shut as I reached the bottom. My mother turned to me, as pale as a ghost, tears running down her face.

"Your father," She whispered. "He's been shot dead."