Zumbert

Well my dad was drinking pretty heavily that night. (counted 18 beers in about 2 hours) and generally speaking when he was drunk there was GOING to be a fight. The night started with just the general passive aggressive wordplay and then progressed to screaming and eventually him telling me to hit him (so that he would have an excuse to beat the shit out of me I guess). Eventually he just snapped and went for a small .22 revolver in another room my mom got to it first and my uncle + mom played keep away with it. Eventually my he wrestled it away from my uncle and started pulling the trigger but my uncle had his finger in between the hammer and managed to throw it outside into the dark. Dad then decided he was leaving and he got his keys and went outside. He came back in 3 minutes later muttering about him leaving was what we wanted him to do. He then made a B-line for my room which contains many assorted knives and weapons. My mom ran into the room and tried to wrestle the knife away from him and he grabbed her hair with one hand and had the knife in the other (kinda like a human shield) and as soon as I saw that I knew I had to do it. So I reached into the drawer and pulled out my .44 mag and shot him in the liver/stomach area.

EDIT: I answered this elsewhere but I can't seem to find it. He didn't die right away. The police arrived and cuffed/interrogated me, but no charges were filled and they called it a very clear cut case of self defense. He was air lifted to a nearby hospital, fighting the police and medical staff the entire time. He fell unconcious never woke up, and died three days later.

Well he had my mother in such a position that I couldn't make any other shots. There was only a sliver of an area to hit him.

Well, honestly I was in shock. The cops arrived probably 5 mins after the incident and I flagged them down from the road (house was probably 1/3 of a mile off the road. They all drew guns on me and I had to lay face down in the gravel and mud etc until they searched me. They then put me in the back of a squad car and started asking me questions. That's about the point where it really kicked in what had just happened, and I felt heartbroken. Because I knew no matter if he lived or died things would never be the same. The worst part wasn't until the next day when his mother and brother started calling the house, I have always been close to both of them and I was TERRIFIED that they would hate me. They both turned out to understand though and everything ended up being OK. His other brother and dad still don't really talk to me though.

No, I would say it all happened around 11 PMish and I got to stay at home that night. Never had any charges brought against me never had to go to the station. They did fingerprint and check everyone in the house for gunpowder though. They also took the knives, .22 and .44 in as evidence and wouldn't return them even after the investigation was over. Ended up having to pay a lawyer and it still took over a year after the investigation was ended to get them back.

I have been shooting since the time I was big enough to hold a gun = ). Hunting is a big part of my family and the area around here (south carolina) I've put at least 1000 rounds through just about every firearm I own. The only luck was where the confrontation took place If he had of grabbed a knife from the kitchen instead of my room I would have had to go get the weapon and it may have been too late.