I know that man. I saw him in a dream a while ago, in a coffin at that. I wasn't too sure, but he looked like my brother would have, had he been older than I had last saw him.
I was adopted, but my real parents always tried to keep some contact with me. I was told they dropped me for financial reasons, and I believe that; I was probably an unplanned occurrence in their tightly-knit budget, and it looks like there would have been no way to support two kids. I would see them usually on Christmas, my birthday, and at graduation ceremonies, but my brother was seldom there. He, being 8 years older than I, was always occupied with more interesting matters; Drinking down by the bowery with a couple of his retarded friends or roughing up some school kids for some easy money were some of his pastimes, if I recall. He lead a troubled childhood, but from what I heard from mom, calling their household dysfunctional would be an understatement.
Though I didn't meet up with Peter that often, I formed a strong brotherly bond with him - more so than with my apathetic parents. When we did meet, he would educate me with priceless life lessons. Mantras like "Nothing is set in stone, everybody has their price" and "When things get rough, trust in yourself. The long arm of the law is crippled" still stay with me to this day. He also gave me the presents that I really wanted: Like when my parents gave me a Nerf gun, he gave me a 7mm that he 'found'. We were pretty solid.
The last time I saw him was when I was fifteen. He told me that he had to go away for a long time, and that he couldn't tell even me why he was. I knew it had to be something dangerous that he was getting into, but I also knew better than to try to stop him. The next time I saw him, I guess, would be now.
But... Why would dad kill him?
And brother, what did you get yourself into?