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Mental illness and crime case study
The relationship between mental illness and violence
Mental illness and crime case study
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Prologue:
The walls are spattered with blood
The floor is spattered with blood
The room is spattered with blood
And in the middle, lies a corpse spattered with blood.
Chapter One:
It had been a couple of months since the gruesome murder of Chantel William and yet the horror haunted him still. No one could ever imagine the repulsion he had felt as he had walked into the blood covered room which contained the dead body of a 14yr old girl who had suffered the most terrible of deaths. The flesh of the poor girl had been ripped off her fragile remains, revealing her bones underneath. She had been covered in shockingly crimson blood, and dark bruising was clearly visible all over the disturbing shell of the frail dead body.
The sight of it had made him want to retch, and only his guilt and sense of humanity could ever have managed to make him go in there. He had attempted to relent despite knowing that this was his job. He now felt ashamed of himself. While the case before him was definitely one that he would never have dreamed of getting involved in, it was, nevertheless, a detective’s profession to handle critical circumstances such as these. Especially as a young girl had died on his account. Particularly he had watched the young girl die on his account. And that he had done nothing about it. Nothing. Not at all. He had just watched. Nothing else. He had encountered the murder of a teenage girl, and had simply let it happen.
He had fought to stay calm, assuring himself that it was just a coincidence that hers was the fourteenth post - kidnap murder in two years. That the aftermath of the assault of all the massacres had been exactly the same as the one he himself had been pr...
... middle of paper ...
...him. He would never escape.
Then suddenly, the feeling of panic was gone. He whipped his head around to see what had become of the ghosts. There was nothing there.
People shot him curious looks, as he made his way back home, but he was lost in his own terrible thoughts, and ignored them. Right now, nothing could hack into his reflections, nobody could bring him out of his contemplations.
He’d had a lucky escape. But he knew this was not over. The creatures would come back for him.
And there was nothing that he could do about it.
Chapter 3:
There were five weeks between now and the dreadful incident involving the corpses in the high street, but he could still not put it out of his mind. The creatures had wanted to kill him. He had seen it in their eyes. So why had they gone?
Something must have stopped them. But what?
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In Walt Harrington’s True Detective, the article centers on the character Victor Smith, better known as V.I., who is a detective who investigates cases of homicide. This article was effective in allowing the readers to understand the perspective of a homicide detective and the many cases they undergo. However, it was difficult to find a connection with this article, because I have no experience with homicide or murder cases apart from what I have seen from the media and TV shows. I was still able to enjoy True Detective, as it described the daily lives of the detectives from Homicide North.
He killed his senses, he killed his memory, and he slipped out of his self in a thousand different forms. He was animal, carcass, stone, wood, water, and each time he reawakened. The sun and moon shone,
~ As the two men started to approach you a big swoosh sound went passed your head. The next thing you saw was that the two men were lying on the ground bleeding from the neck. You look to the place where the sound came from and you saw a shadowy figure then in a blink it was gone. ~
The tree trunks and the creepers that festooned them lost themselves in a green dusk thirty feet above him ...
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The bodies had terrified expressions on their faces and some were even pointing at something. They even found a dog with a terrified expression on its face. Mysteriously
Crouching down towards the body I turned her around so that she was lying on her back. Her throat was slashed and her face unrecognisable. There were no distinct facial features that could be identified except the pale blue eyes full of fear that pierced my soul. Her white blouse was soaked in blood, the strong metallic odour seeping into my nostrils. Scanning her figure, I examined the pockets of her black business trousers and laid her purse and mobile phone on the floor beside me.
And yet none of his certainties was worth one hair of a woman 's head. He wasn 't even sure he was alive, because he was living like a dead man. Whereas it looked as if I was the one who 'd come up emptyhanded. But I was sure about me, about everything, surer than he could ever be, sure of my life and sure of the death I had waiting for me. Yes, that was all I had. But at least I had as much of a hold on it as it had on me. I had been right, I was still right, I was always right. I had lived my life one way and I could just as well have lived it another. I had done this and I hadn 't done that. I hadn 't done this thing but I had done another. And so? It was as if I had waited all this time for this moment and for the first light of this dawn to be vindicated.”
A dull ache had begun in his side. Lifting his shirt, he saw a large bruise beginning to form. His memory flashed to the struggle with the boy and he visibly cringed. The boy that now lay at his feet, dead, had been merely fifteen, he had barely lived. And he killed him for what? A wild goose chase that had led him nowhere? A senseless game someone was playing with him? He yelled in frustration, pulling even more at his hair. His head pounded softly against his skull, reminding him that this wasn’t a dream, no matter how much he wanted to wake up.
...d collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of Eagles running off with his invisible cloak.
No one in the whole classroom knew what to do. Because William felt guilty, he walked up to see if she was okay, but the results made everyone shudder. Laying on her face was a note, it said “look at the sky.” Her skin was pale, and her eyes were rolled back. Her blood ran cold, and she was definitely not her normal self. She was...dead. William dropped to his knees and took a slow and long breath. He couldn’t believe his eyes as he rubbed them trying to make the tragic sight change. Once he eventually realized that there was nothing for him to do, he turned his head to show his classmates of what has become of Margot, but when he turned around, he saw something even
A shiver ran across my frigid spine as I stared across the lifeless room that I was placed in. The whites of my eyes sank into the apathetic walls around me, although I could sense a frenzy in the corners of my eyes. Machinery dressed in all-white coats whirred across the bleached halls to protect the bundles they were rolling. Meanwhile, I, a lifeless soul, became entranced by the stench of disinfectant, staring at the pen and paper in my hands. Without the power to enter the hospital room of my mother, I understood that the body of a four-year-old could not withstand the complexity of the real-world—in my mind I knew. My innocence was dyed in convoluted colors.
As such, each time was as bad as the first. He woke up gasping, clasping and clawing at his skin in a vain effort to dig out the worms and biters he could almost see writhing beneath the surface. The horrible impression passed momentarily. As the crawling things faded, he lay still a moment, trying to understand what had occurred. He wept dry, dead tears for the loss of his life.
...ded his mind ‘Why did I come here?’, ‘What have I done?’, ‘I’m sorry, mother, I’m sorry!’