Killing Just To Kill

April 3, 2010
By Anonymous

Conor ran after the ball attempting to steal it away from the opposing team, he slid beside the opponent kicking the ball away. Running down the field he came to a stop, picked up his leg and kicked the ball with all the strength he had hoping to lead his team to victory. As if things were in slow motion the ball gradually pushed itself into the net. Within moments Conor was surrounded by his teammates whom were more than happy that Conor was on their team to help them become successful soccer players.

I can’t tell you that I knew Conor Reynolds personally, and I can’t tell you that I shared any individual moments with him. I am able to tell you however that his murder has changed my life in more than one way, and that nobody deserves what happened to Conor or how people are feeling because of what happened. You would think that not knowing Conor personally would have no effect on me, but my brother knew him well and it had a great effect on him. My brother has played soccer with Conor since a young age, and I have been to most of those games giving me the opportunity to see him play and see his skills advance. They were more than a team, and soccer was more than a game to them.

The day seemed to be just as any other, I sat at the dinner table beside mother and father when the phone started to ring. My mother moved to the next room answering it, within a matter of seconds she came running in with a panicked look, “Conor Reynolds was murdered.” On March 13 the death of Conor Reynolds left a mark on us all. The killer may have been caught but that doesn’t change the fact that Conor is gone, and it will never change the effect it had on everyone around us. There has never been a time in my life I have gone so long without seeing my brother smile, and I have seen him barley speak a sentence to anyone. Any day before March 13 I could fight with my brother endlessly and we could say how much we hated each other, but at a time like this all we can let out is how much we love each other.

A number of days later we attended the wake; the air was fresh, the sun filled the sky, and we could feel Conor watching down on us. The wake held hundreds of people, a line formed around the parking lot; it showed us how many people loved Conor. I stood behind the team knowing that they all were trying to stay strong, trying to keep the tears out of their eyes. I kept telling myself whenever I felt week to shut down, and not let any of my emotions take over me. After an hour and a half waiting in line, we took small steps up to the open casket; seeing Conor’s face and knowing that he had once had big dreams in life and was once alive and breathing made the wall I tried to keep up shatter and the air start to strangle me. As I tried to keep myself from crying I couldn’t help it, tears started flowing out of my eyes as I spoke a prayer for Conor and his family. Lifting myself up I walked up to his mother giving her my best hug, “I am so sorry for your loss, nobody deserves this.”

I tried to hide my tears as I walked down the stairs to the sidewalk. My brother and Conor’s team were huddled among each other speaking one last prayer before they went their separate ways for the day. My brother turned to walk away and the light showed the tears in his eyes. “Peter!” I felt like I was shouting but it only came out to a whisper. “Peter!” My brother and his team mates turned to face me, their eyes bloodshot from crying. I held out my arms giving him the signal I was open for a hug, “I am so sorry for your friend Peter, I love you so much.” I hugged him tightly never wanting to let him go thinking that if I ever lost my brother I wouldn’t know what to do. “I love you too Rory.” The sniffles and the tears that fell from his eyes only put me into more pain. As we released ourselves I saw people watching over us with remorse on their faces.

In all my life, I had seen my brother cry very few times, those times consisted of when he was young. Seeing my brother hurt only hurt me even more, it opened my eyes to see more of my brother than I ever had before. “How did the funeral go…?” I sat besides my father in the car as we drove to Cathedral high school to pick up Conor Reynolds T-shirts and bracelets. “It was hard, the team isn’t doing well. There were over a thousand people there, even people that didn’t know Conor.” The thought of my brother having to watch Conor be placed into the ground made me cry black streams of tears.

On our arrival
I saw my brother walking up to the table, the sadness in his eyes more visible than ever before. My eyes started to tingle and I knew tears would start coming out soon; I ran up to him giving him a hug and holding him close. Within a moment from releasing from the hug I couldn’t help but take another. “I love you Peter.” When the glistening sun began to set and we made our way home I took out my phone sending Peter a message hoping that he would know that I meant every word that I said. “Peter, I hate seeing you so sad. You know I am always here for you. I know a lot more than you think and I am always willing to talk.” My hope is that Conor can bring the sunshine back to these rainy days, and can keep the people that loved him smiling and living their life as they would before he passed away.

The death of Conor Reynolds’s not only broke many hearts, but it brought so many people together. The week of sunshine that was brought to us was all because of Conor; it was him looking down at all the people he loved. I have never seen this side of my brother and it made me think of life in such a different way. People aren’t going to be here forever; in the blink of an eye you could be gone. If you step out of line once, if you’re simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Conor, you could be dead. It taught me that being nice to everyone, and not holding grudges, is something I should start to think about. When you wake up someone could be gone, and if it’s left on bad terms things would be even harder. My parent’s may feel remorse for Peter and I, but I deny all offers because at a time like this I only want to be with the ones I love, and to make things better with the ones I once loved because like I have learned from this, life is shorter than you think.

The author's comments:
My life has never been effect as much as it has in the past two weeks; death leaves a large mark. I want people to see that murder effects people more than the murderer thinks. They don't think about how many lives they are effecting or how anyone else is going to feel.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book