Last night was the first time in the longest time that my sleep was disrupted by something other than the haunting calls of police sirens and the cries of my dangerously twisted father. The booms and crashes of thunder broke me free from the nightmare I’d been having ever since I was town from my home and forced into the witness protection program. The nightmare with my sister’s shouts for help. The nightmare that caused me to wake up screaming in the middle of the night. The nightmare that pushed me to find out the truth about my poor sister Micaela’s disappearance. I put down my journal and decided that I would start looking for information about my dad. As I was about to exit my temporary bedroom, I heard the broken words from the …show more content…
I could never tell him my story, not unless I was free from the prison that is the witness protection program. I fought back tears as I waited for him, my first almost-friend in six years, to walk away, but he never did. He sat there patiently, and waited for an answer I thought he would never get. I had no idea where to start with my research, especially with this boy staring at me, so I let my hands do what they wanted to. My fingers soared across the keyboard as they typed in my birth name, Bianca Moore, into the search engine. Six years ago, I was only 8 years old, and my brain wiped itself clean of all of the trauma I had been through. While I was lost in a jumble of news articles and documents, the boy stole a look at my computer screen. “Huh, Bianca Moore? That case is so old now, I wonder what happened to her. I mean, the news station was really pushing the fact that her dad was like, a psychopath or something, but I doubt it. The whole thing is just weird. What are your thoughts?” I glared at him, irritated that he would even think about crossing my personal boundaries like that. But he had a point, the whole thing is just weird. Maybe it would be nice to have a partner in crime alongside of me, I thought to
Barbara was born in 1948, convicted for manslaughter, due to emotional duress, sentenced for 25 years, to be suspended after 10, arrested in 1996. Barbara’s story stood out the most to me and i found it very interesting and sad. Barbara 's life has been filled with tragedy since she was young. Barbara was molested by her grandfather when she was a child, and was too young to understand what had happened at the time. Barbara ended up telling her mother about what happened recently after, but her mother told her to keep it to herself. When Barbara got older she learned that her grandfather also molested her mother as well. This made Barbara very confused and question her mother.
On June 20, 2001 a woman by the name of Andrea Yates, stunned the whole country with one of the most bizarre acts of violence that a parents could ever do to their own children. She called her husband at work and told him “I did it” confused by what was going on, he rush home only to find his house filled with officers of the law. The husband asked, “What is going on?”, and only to found out that his wife had drowned all five of their children.
Casey Anthony was a young mother who was put on trial in May of 2011, for allegedly murdering her two year old daughter, Caylee Anthony. The case had a number of key players, ranging from the offender herself, to judges, attorneys, and investigators. Three segments of the trial stick out in particular: the cross examination, the closing arguments, and the sentencing. All were covered extensively by the media, through a number of sources. There were a number of similarities and differences between the selected media sources, anywhere from detail to length, to what opinion the media outlet had itself on the case. Under a criminal profile, Casey Anthony very much fit the characteristics of a criminal psychopath, and the media did very much so have an impact on the outcome of the trial. Overall, the Casey Anthony trial was intriguing and merits both analysis and discussion.
The Hero’s Journey is a basic template utilized by writers everywhere. Joseph Campbell, an American scholar, analyzed an abundance of myths and literature and decided that almost all of them followed a template that has around twelve steps. He would call these steps the Hero’s Journey. The steps to the Hero’s Journey are a hero is born into ordinary circumstances, call to adventure/action, refusal of call, a push to go on the journey, aid by mentor, a crossing of the threshold, the hero is tested, defeat of a villain, possible prize, hero goes home. The Hero’s Journey is more or less the same journey every time. It is a circular pattern used in stories or myths.
as Jennifer, a victim states, “I feel our childhood has been taken away from us and it has left a big hole in our lives.”
When Deborah was only sixteen she became pregnant with her first child by Cheetah and boy she liked when she was younger. Cheetah and Deborah got married and then had their second child. Deborah became very unhappy in the marriage because Cheetah started drinking and doing drugs. He started abusing Deborah. Cheetah pushed Deborah so much she almost killed him if it wasn’t for Bobbette. Deborah’s brothers Sonny and Lawrence were doing well except for Joe. Joe was another case. Joe went to the military, and the family was hoping that would do him good; but he came out worse than when he went in. Joe was threatened and beaten up by a boy named Ivy. Joe was in so much rage he went and stabbed him and killed him. Joe eventually turned himself in to the law, was convicted of second degree murder and sentenced fifteen years in prison.
The other night I had a dream. I dreamed of a boy whom I had known a long time ago, but since then he had disappeared completely from my life. In my dream, I saw him sitting beside my bed and talking to me. He told me about the trip that he had taken with his parents, his two older brothers, and his sister when he was seven years old. He told me how his parents had been victimized by a man who knew about his parents’ desperate attempt to flee from Vietnam, so he took advantage of them.
Life in her new home was everything but stable. At the age of 13, Susan Smith attempted suicide. Her emotions were spiraling out of control when her stepfather molested her. She admitted to the authorities of being sexually assaulted by Beverly Russell around the age of 16. After being reported, Beverly Russell was temporarily removed from their home but returned only after a few family counseling sessions. Susan was reprimanded for revealing the sexual abuse to the public. Her mother seemed to be more concerned with public image rather than the safety of her own daughter. With her stepfather back in the house the abuse continued. Upon seeking help from her school counsellor, the government authorities were contacted. However, the matter was concealed as to protect their image in societ...
The brutal murder of 6-year-old JonBenet Ramsey on Christmas night in 1996 shocked America to its core. Just as the Lindbergh baby kidnapping and murder seven decades earlier had seared the nation’s consciousness, this murder – of a beautiful and talented child in a wealthy Boulder, Colorado home --renewed every parent’s worst nightmare. It has been nearly three years since this violent crime occurred and no one has been brought to justice.
‘My dogs barked furiously at the cars that drove up to the front drive, laying in my bed trying to sleep, I feel like the Scrooge waking up on the wrong side of the bed. My dogs barking wildly makes me quiver with anger as I scream at them, I tell them to, “SHUT UP!” , In a loud thunderous voice. And in an instant, the room fills with silence as the poor pups wander cautiously into their kennel, as if ashamed that they made me mad. Finally, I was able to wander zombie-like back to my bed, only to fall slowly onto my nice white fluffy cotton sheets, where slumber hit me like a train in the night.’
A scary story I remember my grandma telling me a story about a girl named kelly. She live in a big house she loved to sing and getting good grades. She started living with her grandma after her mom and dad died in a car crash. She was the type of girl who was very quiet, her grandma was a lady who use to shake a lot like because she was scared or something. Kelly thought that what all old people do.
As I walked in to their bedroom, I found my mother sitting on the bed, weeping quietly, while my father lay on the bed in a near unconscious state. This sight shocked me, I had seen my father sick before, but by the reaction of my mother and the deathly look on my father’s face I knew that something was seriously wrong.
I am jarred out of a relaxing sleep by a voice yelling my name in a loud whisper, and a light burning through my eyelids. Groggily, I open my eyes to see my father standing in the doorway to my messy room. He tells me that I need to get going, that it is 3:00 a.m., and I'm burning daylight. I find my clothes and get dressed. The whole time I wonder why I get up this early to visit the rugged outdoors. I want to go back to bed, but I know my dad will be back in to make sure I am getting ready, in a little bit. Instead, I put my boots and my wide-brimmed, black cowboy hat on, and walked out to catch the horses. The horses are all excited because it is dark and they are not that cooperative. My dad and I get them saddled and in the trailer, and go back into the house to get our lunch, water, and a cup of coffee. Now, we can head for the high country.
I think it was at its peak from about the age of twelve to roughly
Suddenly I awake at the noise of sirens and people yelling my name. Where am I? Those words radiate out my thoughts but never touching my lips. Panic engulfs me, but I am restricted to the stretcher. “Are you ok?” said the paramedic. I am dazed, confused, and barely aware of my surroundings. Again “Yes, I am fine” races from my thoughts down to my mouth, but nothing was heard. Then, there was darkness.