AT A key point during the Tauri Litchfield murder trial a relative of one of the accused boy's said to me - without irony - 'make sure you write a good, positive story'.
It wasn't a threat.
I did not feel intimidated.
The comment was made, I believe, in good faith that I could somehow turn a tragic situation into one of redemption and hope.
I couldn't.
On March 17, 2013, we lost a young man to an horrific and pointless act of violence.
But the boys convicted of Tauri Litchfield's manslaughter were lost to us long before that night.
Along with the gruesome details that were heard during the trial what emerged was a parallel story of missed opportunities and hopelessness among the five boys charged with murder.
Barely out of childhood but not yet adults, the teenagers had to be warned on more than one occasion to stop laughing during proceedings; to take seriously the fact that they stood accused of killing a man they had never met; that this was a grave situation.
I heard one security guard remind the boys the media was watching every move they made.
But it didn't seem to sink in.
The boys smirked through the proceedings and appeared by turns bored, resentful and indignant.
They seemed far from sorry.
By way of comparison, members of the Litchfield family presented a calm, united front, and when the details of that dreadful night proved too much, they removed themselves from the courtroom.
There were no hysterics.
There were no recriminations.
Even after the verdict was handed down the family refused to comment on the boys responsible for Tauri’s death.
There was a dignity in their grief which was absent from the accused teenagers who never expressed remorse for cutting short the life of a man who loved everyone, and who thought everyone loved him.
Was it their youth which led to their inappropriate courtroom behaviour?
Was it their upbringing?
Or was it just the fact that like that terrible night on Pinjarra Road in March last year, they just didn’t care?
To be barely grown and to have that level of apathy for not only your own future, but that of others, is part of the heartbreak in this situation.
Those without hope have little to live for.
And while it remains to be seen what sentence these boys will face, we can only hope that with time and maturity they will grow to realise the devastation they have wrought on the family of a man who never asked for anything but to be left alone.
Maybe then they will be sorry.
We can only hope.
