A Letter to Parents from a Juvenile Guilty of Murder

This hypothetical letter is based on the Ryan Murder case of 2017. This letter is an attempt to get into the shoes of the juvenile who is guilty of murdering a first standard student of his own school. This is a warning to all the parents, teachers and the society teaching what can happen if the young people (especially adolescents) are not monitored and guided properly.  The generation now a days is becoming very sensitive and aggressive. So it is the duty of the parents and teachers to guide it properly. Now over to Adit (name changed).

Dear Mom and Dad,

Hope you are well. I know I don’t deserve to even call you my father and mother. But I had a few things to say to you. Now that I am nearly eighteen, I am understanding a few things about myself, after a lot of introspection. There are a few things that I, as your son always wished you knew, but you never understood. Now that I am in the worst of the worst situations ever a boy of 17 could be, I wish to tell this to you before I face more punishment.

Ever since I remember, both of you were very loving and caring towards me. My home was a heaven to me. There was mom who used to run behind me feeding me and I used to wait for dad to come home from his office, getting chocolates and toys for me. I used to wait to hug him.

I remember when I lost my teeth for the first time, I was crying helplessly. I was afraid that my tooth will never grow again. Both of you had a hearty laugh and convinced me that the teeth will grow again. I was not at all convinced but I ended up believing it because my parents told me. When teeth actually started to grow, that was a magic. My parents became gods who just knew everything and could do anything. My life was simply a heaven.

Suddenly, one day when I was seven, I heard a loud noise from the living room while I was sleeping. That was probably of a glass breaking against the floor. Then I heard you two shouting to each other in angry voices. I was struck with fear. I slowly and stealthily came out of the room and for the first time saw the devil avatars of my angel parents. That was very scary. You did not notice me coming there, you were lost in your fight. I frightfully ran to my room and hid under the bed. I was very scared. I was crying out of fear – the fear of my own parents. From then on, I lost interest in just everything. My grades went down. For this, both of you started blaming each other. Did you ever ask me the reason?

You often found my soft toys stabbed and torn into pieces, and also killed cockroaches and rats. Even Pinky, our little puppy was found killed. This was a mystery, right? I was the one who did all this. I could find no way to put out my frustration, nor there was any other person who could listen to me. My friends started going away since my grades were going down. I became lonely even while with my own parents. This made me pour out my frustration on such dumb, innocent things. And both of you thought that the other person was responsible for all this, you never asked me. I think all you needed was a reason to fight.

Even at school, I did not have that a good environment. I could not concentrate in the class and could not answer any questions of my teachers and often I was sent out of the class and laughed at by my classmates. This would anger me and I used to often hit them when the teachers were not present.  They used to call both of you to school. You used to come, pretending to be the ‘perfect’ couple, listen to what teachers say and scold me and punish me at home. Never did you try once to find out the reason of my behaviour. I also started back answering the teachers, just because they could not understand me and always complained about me

As I grew up, my study load grew up and you found less and less time for me. Both of you were focused on your respective careers. You never thought about mine. There was nobody to teach me at home. No one to drop me to school and pick me up from school. Do you know one thing, I often used to run to the washroom in tears when I used to see the parents of my classmates coming to pick them up with all love and care. I used to see my classmates hug their parents and think I never did that.

I grew immune to all this as I grew up. But my academic load kept on increasing with not a letter getting into my head and there were a lot of confusion, a lot of chaos as I reached my thirteenth year. Many new questions came into my head causing a lot of dilemma, which I could not discuss with anybody. I wanted to talk to you, but you thought I had grown up enough to take care of myself and started to be more serious about your careers. Both of you left home before I woke up and returned late after I slept. My parents just used to vanish from my sight in the weekdays. I used to see both of you at home only on Sundays, just shouting at each other. But both of you were sweeter than ever to me. You provided me with whatever I asked – laptop, mobile phone, play station, and what not?

To avoid seeing this war-like situation, I took up piano class Sundays. There was this boy Vivan, who was a very young boy, studying in his kindergarten. Incidentally, he happened to be studying in our school. Both of us became close friends. I used to meet him near the school gate and drop him off to his class. Even in the evening, I used to drop him off to school gate. He was the only friend I had in our big school with hundreds of people.

I was in my eleventh standard and he in his first standard. My grades were really poor and there was a parent-teacher meeting scheduled the next day and an examination in the coming week. I was afraid of both. Both of them feared me to death. So, I thought,” The school usually cancels the meetings and postpones the exams if a student dies. And if things go as expected, the school will be closed, no classes, no teachers, no homework, no exams, no parent-teacher meeting. “. The dreadful thought came to my mind. Vivan was the only one who trusted me in the entire school. Not that I did not feel guilty about this, but the exams and the meeting had to be cancelled somehow, or I would be screwed again to death. So, as usual, I picked him off from the gate and asked him to come to the restroom with me. There, I slit his throat and he lay there, motionless. I was very guilty about this but, the exams were post poned, this satisfied me. As I expected, the school was held responsible and with all the police investigation, the school was shut for a week. Driver Anand was accused for this. I was relaxed. But one day, the principal called both of you to come to school with me. We did go to school, this was the first time after my kindergarten that we were going to school together, but I was in no mood to enjoy. The principal and the police officers showed us the footage of me and Vivan near the corridor of the restroom, going inside it. Without delay, I confessed my crime and I was immediately taken into custody. There were multiple inquiries and strong evidence was found against me. I was produced to the court and sent to remand home. Here, as I am writing this letter, I feel better than our home where I don’t have my parents shouting at each other, nobody forcing me to study. But I feel very deep guilt for killing my only trusting friend, Vivan. I often see him, with his throat slit and bleeding everywhere and this scares me. I also have thought of giving this life, but I don’t have the guts to. I am dying every day.

Now, dad and mom, tell me who is responsible for this state of mine? Is it you who, instead of monitoring my behaviour, were lost in your own fights and career? Is it my teachers who could not make out changes in my behaviour and do the needful to change my behaviour? Is it my classmates who did not make friends with me? It is Vivan who trusted me to be a friend or is it the society that nudged me every time I scored less marks? Is it the school which conducts exams? Or Is it me for taking birth into this world? Please convey my deepest sorry to Vivan’s parents. I know what I have taken from their lives with my own hands.. Uncle, Aunt… I am very sorry… Please forgive me if possible.

Yours Lovingly,



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Author: Ms. Nayana M R