Can’t get my head around this

October before last, a local boy was killed at the top of our road when a car went into the back of his moped. The road was closed for a few hours. There was a bouquet on that corner and it was replenished for several weeks. His grave in the churchyard just up from here still brims with fresh flowers every day, without fail.

On the first anniversary of his death, i heard that ‘youths’ had thrown stones and mud at the front of his parents’ house, the front door and windows. Chance, i supposed, that it was done on that particular day.

The same happened this month, on the same date.

Really i don’t know how to react. Maybe the death was more than an accident; maybe someone has reason to hate the family. The novel-plotter in my head tries out scenarios that would make sense of this, and even they peter out, false starts. And in the real world, this non-fiction world, i can’t imagine how a person decides, and plans, and goes out expressly, to heap more anguish on top of the misery of people already hurting so much.