I don't know who it was that I was goaded into killing, but I think I'd shot two people. Surrounded on a hillside, with no escape, I tried unsuccessfully to deny it, but realized I was caught. I fired off a couple of futile rounds at the citizens who'd cornered me as they took cover, then found myself at the bottom of a gorge wall. I was overcome with hopelessness. While they poured hot oil down on me from above, I tried to shoot myself as my father did. The gun fired weakly, and the bullets wounded me in the roof of my mouth without killing me. I wandered in small circles with hot oil falling down on me as I kept pulling the trigger in increasing aggravation over my inability to die, as I finally realized that this is Hell.
I don't know why I couldn't remember this at first, but it wasn't a ravine or gorge, at first. I was in my stepfather's driveway, with the house above me. I don't remember whether he was one of my tormentors or my victim.
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