Personal Narrative: Third-Degree Murder Charges

It was the spring of 2011, and I was sitting behind my desk along with my colleagues in the Communications Security section of the 1st Information Operations Battalion’s Vulnerability Assessment Detachment. Our section NCOIC had just been relieved of duty for violating several Army regulations and security protocols while an individual augmentee deployed to Afghanistan, representing our organization within a special operations Task Force. While his conduct had nothing to do with the mission nor our section, his abject failure to display any integrity or adhere to the Army Values reflected very poorly on our unit and cast our office in a particularly unflattering light...not to mention the additional scrutiny from our chain of command.

I shivered and wrapped my jacket tighter around my torso as another gust of cold wind blew past me. That was the 9th car that has passed me in the last 5 minutes. I had just finished burying the last person I killed, Jason, my ex-best friend. I've had the desire to murder since my 12th birthday when I accidentally cut off my brothers finger and realized how much I enjoyed it. Later that year I snuck out of my house with one of my mom's butcher knives and lunged at a middle aged woman walking down the street. I killed her and her dog and buried them deep in the woods, approximately 10 miles from my house. Since then, I haven't been able to stop. I try to contain myself but every time I feel the urge, something comes over me and I feel a rush of

AHHHHHH!!!!! His died, oh wait.....Hey I'm Miss. White, Boddy's housecleaner, And I'm going to tell you who murder Boddy on the night of Friday the 13th .Well first of all, I am from a small town in Canada. Also, I'm married to a retired body builder. I'm 37 years old and I have two kids one 18 and one 11.I have known Boddy for about 10-11 years. Also I work for Boddy almost every day.

My trial was hard and brutal. The hardest thing was to see that people, that I didn’t even know, want me dead for something that I am physically not capable of doing. You all know me, and who I really am. Most of you probably don’t care about what I have to say, and most of you don’t care what happens to me, but I know some of you do truly believe me. I was framed, and the evidence even proves that I didn’t do it, but no one believes a black man .I mean how could I choke a strong woman like Mayella, and keep her down to where she can’t get up, with my crippled arm. I would never do such a thing to anyone, and I hope you all know that. This justice system is not fair, and I knew there would be no way out of this mess.

I have collected these items not only as evidence for my parents death but to help me believe that it was all real that I was being suspected for their murder. The caution tape and the eyeglass was the materials that I found in my dead parents room before I was escorted to the living room.The Avery fisher hall headliner poster, the last time I could have a nice family moment before chaos with the police tore my family apart.Morris Sampson my first suspect besides my own siblings that could have a motive of murdering my parents due to hate for my mother and writing his opinions into a worst excuse of a book. The pills and the shot to declare the last time I'd ever forgotten to take my vitamins and let it into my system ever again .The airplane

Murder, Homicide, Manslaughter, I had gotten away with all of these crimes...Well not me, the other me. Well, you see I have Multiple Personality Disorder, and I have three personalities. First there’s me, just your regular depressed guy, second there’s Rapunzel,kinda feminine, the hopeless romantic who thinks someone’s actually going to get me out of here, and lastly there’s Alan the psycho, aka the one who got me stuck in here. Hi, I’m Alex Gaskarth, the son of the president, stuck in Mount Hope Asylum for the Criminally insane, this weird 10 story building, and haha lucky me for being on the top floor…*note the sarcasm* yea thanks for that Alan.

One day I discovered what I could not discern from that musty old tome you all have been playing with. I made this essential discovery during a case which involved the murder of a middle-aged soccer mom and her child. At this point in my career I had made a lot of friends within the law enforcement community. When they suspected a clown was involved in a case, they called me in for my expertise on the matter. How ironic that they rejected me for being clown obsessed, but now they were paying top dollar for my services.

I thought I would have to go to my trial dressed in the same dirty, dark gray jumpsuit they had given me. No one had told me any different, so I just assumed that I would be taken to the court house in my jumpsuit like I saw all the criminals in the movies do. It wasn't until a guard collected me from my cell that people finally started explaining things to me. I was taken to a small room that was very similar to the one my lawyer and I had met in, except this one had a window instead of a one way mirror. From my seat, I looked out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of something from the other side. I craned my neck, I saw the officer that had led me into this room talking with a man, but the man was facing away from me. I couldn't tell

They take me to the cell and as go in I tell them that I didn’t do anything wrong, I am a US resident and that I want a lawyer now, I have the right to an attorney! “In a couple of moments someone will come to talk to you.” They tell me. As I wait in my cell, I see someone come my way. They open the cell and tell me, “You are in an Immigration lockup center sur. There is a phone your left, you have five minutes to call your lawyer or anyone you desire before anything else happens.” I nod my head, stand up from where I was sitting and head my way to the phone. As I pick up the phone the first person I call is my wife. I call her and tell her what has just happened to me. “Oh my God! I can’t believe this is happening!” she is telling

In my life I have had very good times but also bad times like my assassination at this time I was living in the White House but was traveling down to Dallas Texas. At this time my life was very busy and there was always something to do. Other things I did beside being the president were playing football for Harvard, be in the army and be senator. Though all these thing ended up in a Lincoln when I was next to my wife Jacqueline, I was shoot in the back of the head the flung my arms up and covered my head but the bullet already hit I felt the pain in my head and like that I was assassinated by Lee Oswald. This happened on November 22,1963. I was buried in Arlington National cemetery. I am remembered for being on of the best presidents in the

I had to do what I had to. I stood over his butchered body waiting patiently for him to take his last breath. When he did, my body involuntarily fell to the ground. The hammer I used as my weapon of choice, the closet thing I could grab after freeing myself from the cage that held me captive since my abduction, hit the ground in unison with my exhausted body. I removed my blindfold, whipped his blood and flesh from my forehead and stood over the lifeless man who stole my most precious gift repeatedly. I never actually saw how he look because of the blindfold he kept on my eyes. I’d see a silhouette of a man about five feet tall often use the phone. He only spoke in Russian so I never knew what he was talking about. I never touched him because my hands were always tied with twine so tight it left permanent marks on my wrist.

Murder isn’t justified if someone does it out of “selfish” emotions or needs, or out of hate. However, murder can be justified if it’s needed to survive.

As I was scrolling through Facebook, a breaking news article caught my attention, and it put my thumb to a screeching stop. “The Memphis police officer was the 18th officer shot and killed so far this year,” and I just sat on my couch in denial of what this country was turning into. I couldn’t understand why innocent men and women, who took an oath to protect citizens no matter what cost, where getting shot for one horrific reason: hatred. While growing up, I had a dad during the day, but when 7’oclock came around, he became someone who didn't just have a family to protect. He and his partner had part of a city to guard; even if it meant risking their own lives. My dad turned into Officer David Ambrose.

Three years ago I moved from Florida to Seagreen, California. My life felt as if it was just beginning and falling into place. However my life was about to change.

This was most definitely not about the money, otherwise I would have had dispute other charges. I have lost bigger amount of money and closed my eyes in my life.