"Shabu", an illegal drug, also known as the "Poor Man's Cocaine", came into its peak during the start of the new millenium. It had spread on almost every nook of the country. Now, there are an estimated 4 million drug-dependent Filipino, and its still a raging war until today.
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I already told you the story on how my pedophilic uncle tried to molest me many times in my life, and forced me to  do things that are too horrid to describe.

Well, my uncle was one of the four million drug dependent personality in the country. His skin so dry, his eyes so deep, and his body's so thin and he look so weak. Both of his arms were full of tattoos that's why many of the neighbors were afraid of him.

He was one of the most notorious drug pusher in our place. All the people in our place knew him and respect him - not because he was someone to be respected, but it's all because of fear.

He always have a Caliber .38 pistol in his little pouch bag that he always carry, together will all those drugs and his paraphernalia.

It was raining that day when I woke up  very early to prepare for my Academic Scholarship Interview. I cooked breakfast for myself and of course for them, as I always do everyday, lest I'll received the beatings once again. Before I went out, I opened the monitor PC, and checked if there were any emails sent by other Universities I have applied also. (It's all Yahoo! or Friendster that time, no Facebook, Instagram etc,)
Both of them were still asleep when I went out for my scheduled interview.

Now, this was the story that Maria, the sister of young Chito had told me, and let me share that story to you also.

On the crime scene, investigators found   a cup of coffee (only half of it was drank), a sachet of "Shabu", foil and lighter - all used up and with fingerprints of my uncle.
Perhaps, after waking up from his deep slumber, "Shabu" plus a little bit of caffeine was the only way to straighten hisself up. So, that day, he was high...

My aunt was still asleep. She sleeps like a pig. She used to recruit young girls from provinces, promising them good job and good life here in the Philippines' Capitol. She even give dowry, most of the time, money, as an insurance of the promise welfare of the recruited young ladies. But when they arrived here to this dreadful city, they will find out that they were recruited and sold as prostitutes in a strip club in Ermita, Manila. They were sold as virgins to some voracious politicians and policemen.
My aunt destroyed many innocent dreams for the sake of money. Not only dreams, but also.. LIVES.

That very day of the incident, my uncle checked his Nokia 3310 (the peak of Nokia phones), if there were big time clients who wanted to order "Shabu" from him. He checked every messages and then he found out something strange..
Our neighbor, who was also my uncle and aunt's "godfather", sent him a message that very morning:
"Kumpadre! I used your WIFE last night, and it is so fast! I forgot to say thanks, so, thank you my Kumpadre!

My uncle was filled with so much madness and so much anger! He felt that she had been cheated by my aunt, her very own WIFE!

So.. In his madness, and because he was high in "SHABU", he went upstairs and opened the room where my aunt was sleeping..

He tapped her, woke her up..
He screamed with so much anger and madness that even our neighbors heard it.
"YOU ARE A CHEATER.. YOU SON OF A B****!!!!"

And just like that...

My aunt was killed in cold-blood, with that old rusty, Caliber .38 pistol, all SIX BULLETS shot in the HEAD! I will just let you imagine the scenery. I will leave it to you then on how cold-blooded it was.

He loaded his old rusty gun again with all SIX BULLETS, hit himself with a little bit of "SHABU", and set a plot to kill his godfather.

But before she even got out, the phone rang with its MESSAGE ALERT TONE.
He get his phone..
He saw another message, and again it was from his "KUMPADRE" (godfather). The message was:

"I am sorry Kumpadre, I sent a typo. I thought it was WIFE, but later, my 8-year old daughter corrected me that it was WIFI.. I meant for the internet connection.. Thank you so much, Kumpadre, your WIFI was so fast and it has been very useful for my daughter's Computer Homework!"

We were not there, and I am not there to conclude how my uncle had felt when he read that new message. But just imagine the feeling of having your wife killed by your own bare hands, because of a damn wrong text message.

But this was what the police invetigators had been concluded:

After my uncle read the message. He went up again immediately to check my aunt if she was still alive. But of course, SIX BULLETS on her head, will immediately kill her instantly.

He has now two possible options, either to continue his plot on killing his KUMPADRE, or surrender himself on the hands of the authority.

But in so much anguish and despair, as the investigator had concluded..

He didn't chose any of the two option mentioned above

He hold the hand of her wife (my aunt) with his left hand..

Put the gun inside his mouth on an upward position...

Then..

With much anguish and agony..

He pulled the trigger..

And my aunt and uncle were both dead..

Because of a TYPOGRAPHICAL ERROR ..

That's the most tragic death story I had ever heard in my whole life.