Comfort for the bereaved... A tale of how I lost my father.

EPISODE ONE...
Just fight a little longer my friend,
It's all worth it in the end,
But when you've got nobody to turn to,
Just hold on and i'll find you...
I hummed along with the song as i took the bend that led to where our apartment was located.
we lived in lagos and dad was home for the weekend as usual, he drove a truck for one of the leading pharmaceutical companies in Abuja so comes home every weekend, i was the only boy in a family of four.
I met the door locked when i got home which got me surprised since daddy was always at home whenever he is around, i was still in my state of shock when i saw some sort of procession approaching our house, mum was held firmly by some men and my elder sister slowly tagged along. I ran to meet them , mum looked me in the eye and started to shout “They've killed him, they've murdered him” i could not comprehend and looked on in silence, my sister who was already crying hugged me and kept on patting my head, i silently asked, what is going on sis? She just kept on sniffing and tried so hard to control her tears.
A car slowly drove in and stopped, some family members i could recognize came down from the vehicle, The proceeded to the the back of the car, opened the boot and gently brought out a body wrapped in white linen, before placing it on the ground.
The body on the ground was my father's. someone slightly raised the linen so people could see his face. in my distress, i forcefully removed the linen totally. It was a gory sight, on his stomach was carved the letter c, everywhere turned black and i passed out..

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