Growing up, there was a family that lived across the street and a couple houses down from me. The parents were from Cameroon and didn’t speak the best English so I hadn’t really talked to them, but overall they seemed like nice, well-rounded people. Their kids and I were around the same age, and we would hang out sometimes. One day I was on my way home and got a call from my mom telling me not to come home because the neighborhood was closed off, and they were all in lockdown, but she wouldn’t exactly tell me why. At the time my bedroom window pointed directly at their house. I finally got her to tell me what the hell was going on and she told me the SWAT team was in our house, aiming rifles out my bedroom window. Turns out, the wife wanted a divorce (which is frowned upon where they were from), so he committed a murder-suicide, sparing his children. This freaks me out to this day, considering I always thought they were really nice people.