I believe that the alcohol was a major factor in the case along with Sandoval being emotionally upset. Sandoval had a right to be upset with the events that led up to the stabbing, but when it came to my decision I needed to wrap my mind around why Sandoval would stab Botello who had no prior altercation with Sandoval. When reading up on the definition of voluntary manslaughter, I noticed three words that stood out to me “heat of passion”. Although Sandoval initially walked up to the house with a chainsaw, I myself, do not believe he was going into “cut them up” as the police officer testified but left out of his police report. The Officers testimony had way too many questionable statements in it for myself to truly believe him.
Who am I kidding—I haven’t been smart since the beginning. Or I can stop the experiments and see if I start to remember things again. And I could go see a doctor but I don’t have the money for that, he thought and placed ... ... middle of paper ... ...ashed but Marquis had no time for trifle things. It’s not like his prey would be concentrated on how worn or dirty his mask was; though, it was the last thing they saw before he shot them through the chest. It could probably stand a short wash in the sink but he had already left the building and was now approaching the house which held his next victim.
Some of the friends I went out with that night he seems not to get along with and feels that they have a negative influence on me. The conversation ended with him hanging up on me. We both engaged in aggressive behavior, because we were yelling at each other and said some things that normally would not have been said if we would have dealt with the situation differently. I lost focus of the problem because of anger and neither of us got our point across. I should have called and let him know ahead of time that I was going out with my friends and none of this would have happened.
If I pretended interest, he would start changing channels, or switch to the stereo. If I called my parents, my "crime" got added to his list for later revenge. I pleaded with my parents to intervene, but they just called me selfish; couldn't I see that I had a sick brother, that I had to "help" him by tolerating his behavior until he magically got well? "Magically" because we couldn't seek any help; that would require letting an "outsider" know We had a problem. After he beat up my brother Sol, my father ordered Jake to leave until he cooled off, the first time he had ever intervened.
“I’ll never be good enough.” “I’ll neverbe as thin as those girls on TV!” “Talking to new people doesn’t come easy.” “I am disappointed with who I am...” These are some of the unspeakable thoughts that linger throughout the minds of many males and females all across the globe. Many of them are struggling with self-disappointment, depression, social anxiety, anorexia, confusion of expectations, and the fear of being not good enough. All of this has been caused by a monster, possibly one of the most horrifying monsters of all: the mass media monster. The mass media has an extremely negative influence on both males and females which impacts their confidence, self-esteem, and produces increased health risks. “Confidence can be defined as the judgment of the powers or abilities upon oneself.” (Ashbery).
Going out on that beautiful day was going to make the day even more better, so I asked my father nicely if I could go out with Rashed and have a good time, and he said that I can go. Here is when the action begins; Rashed calls me again to tell me that we can’t go out because his brother has taken his car. I went to my father to ask him if I could take his car while I was pretty sure he would not give it to me. I asked him, and suddenly, I was surprised from my father’s unexpected reaction, he was so mad and he started shouting at me not to mention that request again. I was a young fifteen year old boy, so I was pretty mad, but I could not do anything because I should listen to what my father says to me.
While filling out the report for him we get a call about a kid who was struck at a bar by another man. We asked if he wanted to press charges and he replied with a yes. We went to his house and found out it was a twenty-five year-old who was majoring to be a lawyer. The officer I was with that night knew this kid and thought very low of him because of past incidents. Come to find out the twenty-nine year old we had in custody was the one that had assaulted him earlier in the bar.
I don’t really drink especially this early in the morning, but my best friend works there. He graduated a year before me and has been waiting for me so that we can start are big bus... ... middle of paper ... ...the little freedom I have left. When I finally arrived I saw my worst enemy, Henry and my mom speaking to each other. I decided to go back home. I don’t know but I’d rather do this over the phone or in private with my father than have to do this in front of the only person who supported me and the person who ruined me.
My dad and I had always gotten along better, never disagreed with each other or got in screaming matches, until this dreaded senior year. I couldn’t even get along with my sweet, affectionate father because I developed such a bad attitude. When I say I disobeyed their rules, I mean their rules didn’t even apply to me. I completely disregarded them and did the opposite of what they told me to do. They set a curfew as to when I should come home at night in which I was an hour or more late.