In a cool April night, a loud bang is to be heard and a joung boy, jerks up, from where he is sitting, then, after a second, stumbles to the front and falls from the bank he was sitting. A blood curling scream, that escapes the joung boys' mouth, ecoes trough the high palm tree branches. Red, thick substance crawls upon the floor, out of the bullet wound in the back of the boys' head. Before anybody from the crowd that slowly starts to appear around the unknown boy, can do anything, he leaves them, to join a much more peaceful place, and a run is to be heard, between the forest trees. The fallen branches are stumbled upon and the stones fly around the murderer. Yet, no one is to notice.