I remember when I used to be normal. I still worked at the hospital and I enjoyed it. My daughter Sara, who was two, had beautiful blue eyes, just started speaking and playing like every other kid in the world. My wife Katie loved Sara and me. It’s all gone now, it killed them, it controlled me, I killed them. I still remember the bloody scene today. Kate was sleeping and I grabbed her throat she was terrified. She yelled… The scream still rings in my ears today. She woke Sara up; Sara was sleeping next to me. I grabbed Kate and smashed her head against the wall, she fell unconscious and I choked her to death. Sara was still screaming, it pissed me off, snapped her neck in half. I was afraid, I did this, no, it did this. It’s been with me ever since I was born. It used to always enjoy the sight of blood but I never truly controlled me, every one in a while I would take control but only for a few …show more content…
minutes. I remember once in grade 3 I knocked a kid but I was never anything that serious. Once I finish my college degree and started work as a surgeon it got worse. Something about blood and flesh excited it. It’s made kill several patients, from young kids to the elderly. I’ve lied about every murder saying it was a technical difficulty or we couldn’t help the patient.
This time it got me suspended from the hospital for two months to get my shit together. Since being suspended I’ve been hiding, scared for my life and sanity. Soon after I got suspended from the hospital, it took over again. Three days I had no control. It would stare at the mirror for hours; I could see it giving an ominous grin. It knew that I couldn’t affect him; it knew that I was weak and I knew that it made me sick. During the tree days I ate nothing it made me cut my wrist and drank my blood I don’t know too much about what it did but I do know this much: on the first night it got bored the blood gushing out of my forearms weren’t enough to entertain it. It walked outside; I knew where it was going Eat Woods. East Woods was usually the place killers would hunt, sometimes a teen or young adult would go there to muck around. The ghostly howls, dark path and dead nature could be seen for miles. There was no green leaf to be found, animal bones and rats were
everywhere. It waited 26 hours. No water or food. Suddenly it heard a young adult 18 maybe 19. She was laughing and giggling with her friend on the phone. Oh, how much I wished I could’ve warned her about what’s to come. I tried with every ounce of my strength but it was stronger. It was laughing, making fun of me. I started feeling like it. Its mind was my mind. Suddenly, I felt happy, happy for seeing blood, happy for all those murders but it didn’t last long, again I was just a bystander of my own actions. She walked for another 5 minutes, I followed. It looked thirsty. It grabbed her throat, she was screaming but nobody could hear her, the closet town was 3 miles away. I repeatedly stabbed her with my knife. Blood was everywhere. I kicked her to the ground, got her scarf then hung her to the closest tree. The next morning, I had control again. I was in the same woods as last night but I was a little bit further than the girl’s body. I had blood on my clothes. The shirt which was white before was now the colour of a rose petal. I felt sick because I was thinking of what the girl might have felt. I just stood still, remembering what I felt last night the joy was something that I haven’t felt in months, but I wouldn’t turn into a psycho just to feel happy. It probably wanted me to murder in my own will. I had enough. My daughter, wife, job, happiness and sanity were all gone because of this monster. I took my knife and pointed it to my heart. My shaking hands couldn’t hold the knife strait. I had cried enough tears to fill a swimming pool. With all my strength I put the knife in my chest. I killed my self. I woke up, confused. I looked around; I was in a hospital bed. My wife was alive and she was sitting next to me. I heard fast thumps coming from the hallway. The door opened a small shadow came out, it was Sara and she looked older. I asked my wife what happened. She said you’ve been in a coma for 11 years. I asked her how. She said I was operating on a mentally ill man who killed many people for his own pleasure when you felt sick you went outside and fainted. I was relived, I knew this: time is precious, one second, one bad move, one mistake and it all could be gone.
In this critic, I will be analyzing and comparing two books. The first book is “A question of Freedom a Memoir of Learning, Survival, and Coming of Age in Prison” by R. Dwayne Betts. The second book is “Newjack: Guarding Sing Sing” by Ted Conover. In this comparison will first give a short summarization of both books. Second I will be answering the fallowing questions, what prisons are discussed? What types of prisoners are there- age, race, sex, level of crime? How current is the information? What are the conditions of the prisons? How are the prisoners treated? How are the guards and their viewpoints represented? How are the prisoners and their viewpoints represented? What forms of rehabilitation are there? What are the social relationships with other inmates? What opportunities are available to occupy prisoners? What point of view is the author taking – critical, Positive, does she/he write from the viewpoint of a guard, a prisoner? What evidence is/are the author’s points based on and how is the evidence presented - for example, first hand observations, Statistics? Also what changes, if any, are proposed or discussed by the author? How does the information in this book compare with what you’ve read in the text and articles and what you have observed on a class trip? Lastly what is your opinion of the information and viewpoint expressed in the book?
There was a warm breeze, the sun was shinning, and it was a beautiful Sunday afternoon. As I briskly walked to the auditorium my heart was racing with nerves. Today was the first day I would have the opportunity to go and mentoring some of the young women at the Richard L. Bean Juvenile Detention Center in Knoxville, TN. Ever since I found out this program was available I was more than eager to go and make a difference.
Once released from prison, he or she is deemed a felon. Losing the right to vote, not being able to serve on a jury, and inability to enforce his or her second amendment is just a few of the disadvantages of serving time, but this is just the textbook interpretation. There is no much more that is at stake when you step foot behind bars. Once a person gains their freedom the better question to ask is what wasn’t taken form them? Their job if there was one in the first place, their children, their family, and most importantly the part of the person that made them a member of society.
To those who have never had this disease, you cannot imagine how frightening the demons are, how they take over your life, your every thought, your every action. There is no respite within the mind; it is constantly on overdrive.
“ No, I would never hurt you,” I assured her as I grabbed her small, precious arm and pulled her away from the dangerous tree roots. Monique with 100% trust in me exclaimed, ” go on flip me.” She was so tranquil, which made me more nervous. I was panicking, my though dried up and I was starting to reconsider flipping her. I had a million thoughts, what if I hurt her, why does she trust me so much? ”Victoria, Victoria!”, Monique screamed. “ Yeah sorry!” I reply with hesitation. I pulled a confident face and started counting down, “ 3, 2, 1”. I grabbed her shaking arm and flipped her over my head into the air. Time stopped at that moment, Monique’s face turned from calmed and collected to scared and surprised in an instance. “Bang” she fell on the muddle, and rough ground. “ARGHHHH”, screamed Monique, from the excruciating pain. “It hurts”, she yelled while laying still on the grey grass
for youngsters who have a long history of convictions for less serious felonies for which the juvenile court disposition has not been effective” (qtd. in Katel).
Something happened my sophomore year of high school that little did I know would change my perspective, not only of myself, but life in general. I was looking for something new and exciting to enhance my high school existence and decided to give the Criminal Justice Club a try. I was familiar with the advisor of the club, but knew that the club had astigmatism for attracting those students who were just looking for something easy to do. I knew about the criminal justice system, but only what they show on Law and Order. However, I immediately fell in love, not only with the club but the entire prospect of Criminal Justice. I stepped into the club as if it were a place I belonged and easily became a leader. I was able to learn things the TV shows
During the first session with the client we went over the consent form and I asked them if there were any questions about it, which they had only one to make sure that it was not being show to the entire class, once answered they signed the form. I think that when I make my own form I will have a better understanding of how to explain the reason behind it and also better explain what it is form. After the form was signed I conducted and interview with the client.
The second I stepped onto the campus, I knew that it was where I wanted to be and I felt like I was at home. The atmosphere felt friendly and family-like, the campus and the surrounding area was beautiful, academics are amazing, and the athletics and their facilities are great. The most appealing of these factors to me was the outstanding criminal justice program. This really caught my eye because my long-term goal after college is to work in the criminal justice field as a criminal investigator or a crime scene investigator. Not only does UNF have a great criminal justice program with outstanding professors that were, at one point, in the criminal justice field, but they also have great ties with the FBI and Jacksonville Sheriffs Office,
It was day 3 of life in prison and one of my fellow prisoners decided to ask me ”so how did you get here because you know we all have our story.” I thought about telling him and eventually I agreed. “It all started when I was younger and I fled New York to go west where I thought I would make a better living, but now I regret for what I have done to get my money,” I explained. “that is almost exactly how I got into this terrible prison,” the prisoner said. “anyways, I had an appointment scheduled for me and my old pal Jimmy Wells to come meet each other after twenty years,” I said.
I awaken to the sun beaming through my tiny window. I place my bare feet one by one on the cold concrete floor, standing and stretching as high as I can, until that satisfying pop sounds as my spine loosens up. Then it's a reach for the toes as my calves feel loose again. I trot out of my small cell and begin jogging, as I have every morning for a really long time. The air is stale, cold and crisp.
The Reader didn’t really give any insight on how Hanna felt that prison changed her. We heard other people's recounts of her life in those years but we will never know how she felt about it.
There is a lot of parts that make a prison operate. From the generators to give out power to the building, to the janitors to keep the building clean and the mail room to sort and pass out the mail that’s comes through. But there is three key parts that make a prison function. One of those parts is; the outside fencing and barbwire that’s wrapped around the building. Without it inmates are able to come and go when they please. No boundaries are set making the jail pointless. A second key part is the commanding officer. His job is to control the inmates on what they do. The officer knows what the inmates are doing through the day, meaning if an inmate did something the officer knows about it. Lastly the holding cell.
I have walked through jungles where the light of the shadows can make even the biggest creature afraid. Where I saw trees that were Triassic-tall with heads as thick as a redwood’s. They tower over everything, silent and brooding in their leafy canopy. Their trunks were as thick as barrels and reached upwards like zombies coming alive. Hanging from them were beards of moss, green and swinging with a lazy movement.
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,