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WORDS: LARISSA CHAPMAN/SALLY SAUNDERS.
I was 12 years old when my dad was murdered and my life changed forever. It was just before the end of the school day, and my teacher told me that my mum had asked me to go home immediately. I instinctively knew something very bad had happened. It was just minutes before the end of the school day: why couldn’t it wait until I got back?
When I arrived home, I approached the house from the grassland in front, and felt that sense of foreboding even more. There was a police car in the driveway, and I heard the sound of my sister crying in the living room. My mum took me upstairs and told me that my dad had died. I remember crying for a minute or so, and then feeling like I had to get
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