Life: A 100 Word Testimony

I hated the deceased. I didn’t hate him when I killed him. I didn’t hate him when he invaded my home. I didn’t hate him for the color of his skin or the fact that he threatened my life. I learned to hate him later. I learned to hate him after I was accused of murder. I learned to hate him after he was dead.
He made me a killer. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a murderer. I am a killer, though, now and forever. He made me take a life, and doing so, destroyed mine.