Short Story About Living With the Guilt of Murder It was late I thought. Almost midnight yet I was still unable to sleep. I stared thoughtlessly at the moving shadows mumbling to myself, "it was just a story" but in my heart I knew it wasn't, it was more than a story, much, much more. Then, a crow appeared in the middle of my room. The crow stared at me with such intensity that I fell backwards into the safety of my pillow. I stared at the crow in shock as it disappeared into my closet and that's when I heard it, a long piercing whine that was like a nail to a chalkboard. I prayed that it would go away, I prayed with all my heart but it stayed there continuing its long whine. It was then when I caught a glimpse of it. I saw two glowing bloodshot eyes stare at me. I let out a scream born from terror and almost immediately my dad came bursting into my room. He stared at me with confusion but all I could do was point a shaking finger at my closet door. Cautiously, my father marched into the closet door only to find nothing inside. Then, without warning, the closet door slammed shut along with my father still inside. It all started last year during summer break. I was with a couple of friends when he came along. He was short, round and had a learning disability. We thought that it'd be fun to pick on him for a while. We took turns shoving him around. I guess I shoved him too hard and he rolled down the hill we were on. When we found him he was barely breathing. We tried to help him because we thought that it'd be the right thing to do but then we realized that this was all our fault. We couldn't let him go so we carried him into the forest for the animals to finish him off. Days later, we returned to the forest only to find his body with teeth marks all over, he even lost his leg to a pack of coyotes. The worst part of it was that in the midst of all this, he was still alive slowly enduring this torture. We took our turns saying our apologies but we knew that it would never be enough.
This examination will look at the short story “Killings” by Andre Dubus and the main characters in the story. The story begins on a warm August day with the burial of Matt and Ruth Fowler’s youngest son Frank. Frank’s age: “twenty-one years, eight months, and four days” (Dubus 107). Attending the funeral were Matt, his wife Ruth, their adult children and spouses. Matt’s family is extremely distraught over the murder of their youngest son/brother, in their own way. There are implications of wanting to kill Richard Strout, the guy accused of being the murderer: “I should kill him” (107), as stated after the service. This comment is considered a fore-shadowing of what is to come in the thought progression of Matt and Ruth.
The night was tempestuous and my emotions were subtle, like the flame upon a torch. They blew out at the same time that my sense of tranquility dispersed, as if the winds had simply come and gone. The shrill scream of a young girl ricocheted off the walls and for a few brief seconds, it was the only sound that I could hear. It was then that the waves of turmoil commenced to crash upon me. It seemed as though every last one of my senses were succumbed to disperse from my reach completely. As everything blurred, I could just barely make out the slam of a door from somewhere alongside me and soon, the only thing that was left in its place was an ominous silence.
The sentencing of underage criminals has remained a logistical and moral issue in the world for a very long time. The issue is brought to our perspective in the documentary Making a Murderer and the audio podcast Serial. When trying to overcome this issue, we ask ourselves, “When should juveniles receive life sentences?” or “Should young inmates be housed with adults?” or “Was the Supreme Court right to make it illegal to sentence a minor to death?”. There are multiple answers to these questions, and it’s necessary to either take a moral or logical approach to the problem.
I try to walk faster so that I can finally get to my destination but the walked seem like it was taking years to go there. As if the walk through the dark valley would never end. The full moon was shining very bright and the stars were out as I heard the sound of the gust wind, I don’t know why my heart began to beat faster, faster and faster. So then I began to run because of how frightened I was, as I was running I tripped over that seemed to be hard almost as if it was a bone. I fell forward and landed on my face, having my face painted towards the grassy muddy ground. As soon as I tried to get myself up something was licking my ear and screamed so loud that my echo was heard in the valley. I looked to where it was licking my ear and noticed it was a black dog with grey eyes. I was trying to figure out if he was a wolf or a dog but then I noticed his tongue and teeth and knew it was a dog. The dog seemed to want to play with me he immediately continued to lick me as I was scared for my life. I finally got up and walked away because I just wanted to go home where I was safe. The dog continued to follow me right behind me every step of the way. I began to run so that he stopped following but I was wrong he ran with me and even faster than me. He continued to follow me until I was home, I stepped inside my house and he wanted to step inside too. At that point I felt really bad for the dog and let him in. Something about this dog brought my attention so I decided that I would keep him as my
"The Utterly Perfect Murder" was a story about a man named Doug who was bullied as a kid by Ralph and then Doug eventually plans to murder Ralph but doesn't after seeing how much Ralph has changed. The main theme of the story is that revenge is never the answer because people change. The story was shown to us as both a written version and a movie. I feel that the written version presented the story better because it shows more of Doug's and Ralph's character development than in the movie.
Ok. One night my sister and I were at my father’s house. He lives in Kingsville on 10 maybe 9 acres of land in this [small pause, looks at ceiling] I wouldn’t really call it a farmhouse, just a kind of small house out there. The previous person who lived in the house was supposedly shipped to an asylum, for, you know, normal stuff [pause] schizophrenic or something. My sister and I were at the house one night and we were cleaning up the house while my dad was on some sort of job out of the state and my step mom was at work in the hospital. We were doing our stuff, and then the power flickered, and came back on. We didn’t think anything of it. Then, outside of the door, we heard a noise, kinda like a dog barking, but like, just enough not so that we knew it wasn’t. So, we hear this noise, and start to get fre...
Squatting on the ground, I was weeping. I couldn’t see anything, not even my hand although it was not far from me. I made my eyes widely open to make sure if my eyes went blind or not. When it was around 8pm, I started looking for the window. Touching my hands on the corners of the room, I finally found it. I used up all my energy opening the window, but it was covered with hard dust and it was rigid. I fell down, and cried a lot. I couldn’t sleep throughout the whole night, because I was hungry and thirsty. In addition to this, it was cold in the middle of that night. I was shivering and coughing persistently. Time passed, and it was early in the morning, but nothing
- Beast! - cursed man, trying to find in the car at least something than you can hit the approaching maniac. His choice fell on a small penknife, which wallowed around in the glove compartment. Tom squeezed his in anticipation of Tim. Finally key gnashed in the lock, the door opened and Tom rushed for bloodstained man. Serious struggle ensued, a few times he managed to stab a serial killer. However, the forces were not equal: Tim soon put a knife to his throat and whispered
One night, one kid snuck out at midnight to go over to his friend’s house. His name is James. The fastest way to get to his friend’s house was going through “Screaming Woods.” So, James ran across the street and down the trail, and then he saw the sign “Screaming Woods.” Before James went in the woods, he started to feel kind of scared to go through the woods at night alone, because he had heard stories from friends about people coming out of the woods, claiming they saw a weird creature. When they came out, they were never the same person, and some people came in and never came out. Then James thought for a second, and made the choice of swallowing his fear and going into the woods at night, alone, to get to his friend’s house. About ten minutes later, James was about halfway through the woods; Then, in the still, quiet darkness, he heard a sound. James was freaking out and trying to keep calm. He waited a minute and started walking again. About three minutes later, he saw a creature with big green glowing eyes. He panicked, so he dropped on the ground and laid there quietly, hoping that whatever he saw would leave. But James was out of luck. He could hear it getting closer, and then the thing grabbed him. The thing lifted him up with its long, sharp, razor pointed fingers. A million thoughts crossed his mind at that moment. The only thought he found, in that moment, was “I am going to die!”. About one minute later James last words were, “Help me God, Please tell my parents I love them!” After those words James’ corpse was being devoured...
It was just a normal day. I was living at home with only me, John, and my mom. My dad had died trying to protect the village from a wild animal from the forest. My mom wanted me to go to the market and get some food. So I did. As I made it to the market I could see all of the things being traded. I went to were the food was being traded and traded some stuff for some food. As returned home I noticed a couple of strange voices I didn’t notice. I walked into the house. It got dead silent. Then all last I heard were gunshots until everything went black.
The criminal offence of murder, while in better shape than many other offences, is still in need of updating and some reasonably minor adjustments, most notably in the areas of intent, self-defence, and the mandatory life sentence it imposes. It is unanimously agreed that the laws on murder need codifying.
Michael Sanders, a Professor at Harvard University, gave a lecture titled “Justice: What’s The Right Thing To Do? The Moral Side of Murder” to nearly a thousand student’s in attendance. The lecture touched on two contrasting philosophies of morality. The first philosophy of morality discussed in the lecture is called Consequentialism. This is the view that "the consequences of one 's conduct are the ultimate basis for any judgment about the rightness or wrongness of that conduct.” (Consequentialism) This type of moral thinking became known as utilitarianism and was formulated by Jeremy Bentham who basically argues that the most moral thing to do is to bring the greatest amount of happiness to the greatest number of people possible.
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,
I was sitting on my bed, my laptop in front of me. The light illuminating from the screen was the only light in the room, more likely the only house. I was home alone due to my mom taking late shift at the local bar, but she should have been back by now. I assumed she was at some ones house. It wouldn't surprise me. She gets off with anyone she meets, man or woman. It sickens me, how my mother acts around other people, and around me. She's been like it ever since dad died. Attacked by a serial killer when he was coming home from his late night shift at the gas station. His body was found on the street, a smile carved into his face with the words "Go to sleep" written in blood on his white work T shirt.... (Shut up.) My mom has constantly
I looked up at the black sky. I hadn't intended to be out this late. The sun had set, and the empty road ahead had no streetlights. I knew I was in for a dark journey home. I had decided that by traveling through the forest would be the quickest way home. Minutes passed, yet it seemed like hours and days. The farther I traveled into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. I was very had to even take a breath due to the stifling air. The only sound familiar to me was the quickening beat of my own heart, which felt as though it was about to come through my chest. I began to whistled to take my mind off the eerie noises I was hearing. In this kind of darkness I was in, it was hard for me to believe that I could be seeing these long finger shaped shadows that stretched out to me. I had this gut feeling as though something was following me, but I assured myself that I was the only one in the forest. At least I had hoped that I was.