My son Buster was just sixteen years old when he was brutally murdered in July 2006. He had only just left school and was looking forward to his future. One Friday evening he went to a friend’s house at the end of our road, I phoned him later as I always did and he told me he would be back soon, I didn’t realise that would be the last time we would ever speak to each other, his last words were ‘I love you mum’ and I said ‘I love you too Bust’. Minutes later I heard his friend shouting to me from outside, I could hear the panic in his voice and ran out to him. He was giving the address to the emergency services, I followed him and nearby found Buster lying in the street, covered in blood, there was blood everywhere, he was obviously severely injured. Buster died there where I had found him, he had been stabbed in the neck and hit on the back of his head which had fractured his skull. A gang armed with knives, baseball bats and a glass bottle had ran out of an alley-way and launched a vicious attack on Buster and his friends.
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