Roof Short Story

It all started 15 years ago. The day was September 22, 2005 at an abandoned warehouse in the creepiest part of town. Bobby who was one of the best cops in the police department was in his vehicle patrolling town and got a call over his radio and the lady said, “There was a one-eighty-seven (Murder) at the abandoned warehouse.”

In Ferguson, Missouri there was a shooting that resulted in law enforcement siding the oppressor rather than the 18-year old whose life was taken in the incident. Michael Brown’s killer never faced consequences for his actions, which resulted in a protest that practiced civil disobedience, but resulted in violence by the people destroying the community of Ferguson.  Many protesters used this event as a chance to speak up because they were always silenced. These people couldn’t understand the consequences of their actions. Many feared saying anything that the individual had witnessed because signs

In the article written by Schimidt, Schimidt interviews the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigations (F.B.I). The director of the F.B.I goes on to say how the incident involving Dylann Roof could have been avoided with clearer communication and the waiting period.

It was a cold stormy night. The house was still. I was lying in bed when I heard a series of knocks at the door. As I descended the stairs the knocks were getting louder and louder. I thought to myself, "Who could be at the door this late at night?" When I opened the door there was a tall man dressed all in black. He smelled of fish and looked like he just walked out of a mud pit. He was having car troubles and needed to use the phone. I invited him in and told him that the phone was down the hall in the living room. Instead of calling the tow truck he called his friend, George, to come pick him up. I invited him to have a cup of coffee and some cookies while he waited for his friend to pick him up. We talked for about an hour when there

Would you ever spend days of your life under a deck pulling weeds pouring mulch and planting flowers I did.

A murder of a black teen on November 23, 2012 at a local gas station in Florida was a tragic event, Michael Dunn a white middle-aged male opened fire on a car containing four unarmed black teens his reasoning for firing openly on the teens was he claimed he felt threatened because the teenagers choice of music which was rap and the loud volume they were playing it. He openly fired on these innocent teens because they were doing something he did not care for, along with him stereotyping the teens because they were black and had fatefully chosen to play rap music rather loudly he felt threatened by their freedom of speech to play whatever music they so choose without having to be in fear. As generations evolve cases such as these should not be a present thing in our country, these cases are less and less but still one case is too many cases this issue of racial profiling and harm because of it should be extinct in today’s society.

Mr. Roof, the mass murder, picked up the view of anti-black evidently on his Facebook page a few days before he finally sat in the church. As his friend said, Mr. Roof claimed to “start a civil

deserted their mansion. One night, the girl’s mother decided to return to the mansion and look for her daughter. It is here where she encounters the paperhanger once more. During this scene, the mother offers to pay him to drive her into the woods and look for her daughter. He replied, “I wouldn’t charge anybody anything to search for a child’s body. But she’s not in the woods. Nothing could have stayed hidden, the way these woods were searched (165).” By offering to help the child’s mother the paperhanger gains the mother’s trust. To the reader, he appears to be helping the mother during a time of need, making him a decent friend. The paperhanger manipulated the situation, to get the girl’s mother to trust him and consequently leave with him. He knew the child would not be found, not because the woods were extensively searched, but because he remains. The paperhanger was supposed to drive the child’s mother to the woods, but instead drives her to a cemetery. After noticing that some of the graves had been dismantled and robbed, she tells the paperhanger. He responded by saying, “You can’t rob the dead. They have nothing left to steal (167).” The woman was shocked by his response and then asked him if he had robbed the graves. He responded by saying, “The line between grave robbing and archeology has always looked a little blurry to me. I was studying their culture trying to get a fix on what their lives were like (168).” This is the turning place in the story, where the

When reading this case you have to take it back to the abuse of human rights and how to properly proceed the evidence that will allow the violators to be accountable for their actions. The story clearly analyzes on how the shooting in New Orleans on the Danziger Bridge in 2005 occurred. At this time it was during the wake of Hurricane Katrina were two victims were killed and four others were injured ((Bohm & Haley, 2014) when crossing the Danziger bridge these six bystanders were killed and injured by the hands of a police officer's. However, these officers failed to mention the use of deadly force against six unarmed citizens. Arthur Kaufman was among one of the officers that made the attempt to cover up the crime (Bohm & Haley, 2014)

Currently, Black Lives Matter victims are struggling with the loss of children, relatives, and close friends due to an illogical order in society. The guilty are set free, while the innocent are accused of putting themselves in unfriendly situations, therefore making them a byproduct of their demise. In order to completely understand how innocent people are being killed and murderers are getting away free, I uncovered the truth behind scapegoating. This unfair societal issue is a problem, nonetheless, a careless standard of pledging guilt on the ones who are rightfully innocent. In my essay I argue, by utilizing Burke’s theory of scapegoating in the Tamir Rice shooting, I understand how law and society constructs who receives guilt and who

What do you do when you hear something you weren’t meant to hear and they know you heard it? The chattering of the other people in the restaurant made John feel anxious because he was sitting alone in a booth which was pretty much isolated from the rest of the diner.

Darkness...Hurt...Pain...Suffering...Sickness... These things all come to mind when one thinks of a Squatters camp. People from all walks of life, gathered in this wretched place because they have nowhere else to go. The sun rises over the meadow to reveal temporary homes made from mud, cardboard, blankets, and anything else that the owners could find. Out of one establishment, a mud hill with cardboard walls and a blanket roof, steps a man. Jonathan Hillsdale is his name, and he has lived in this camp for a year, but in a situation this bad, must've felt like an eternity. As he pushes away the blanket, a small glimpse of his world can be seen. He had four daughters: Lucy, Susan, Mary, and April. Disease has spread quickly all throughout the camp, and the children, the most innocent and hopeful of them all, felt it the most. Jonathan Hillsdale's crying could be heard at night, tears dripping down his face. He had no job, no food, and it seemed every other week one less daughter. Nobody could do anything about it. These were hard times for everyone, and with conditions so poor, there was no light at the end of the tunnel. Those who are more fortunate sleep on mattresses, or have a radio. There were very few of people that lucky. To be lucky is to survive, and in a time of such hardship many people were struggling to just do that.

“Where did he go?” the Police Officer snarled. I could hear the footsteps of the police men, it sounded like a buffalo stampede.

Ronan was no stranger to burying bodies. Whether it was night horrors or a memory of his father’s corpse or a bundle of Noah’s bones or Adam or Gansey or Blue, mutilated by his gruesome and horrific imagination, Ronan had buried the people he loved a thousand times over. There was a tiny plot of land on the Barns, as far away from the farmhouse as Ronan had been able to drag his father’s dead weight through the rain and his tears that first night he had dreamt up a dead thing, that Ronan had dedicated to all of the people his head had killed.

BAM!!! The sound of gunshots still remained in Nicholas’s ears. Dragged mercilessly into the operation, Nicholas was only sixteen years of age. He didn’t want to, but wants Nicholas found out about them, they found and blackmailed him. The family who raised him, who feeling threatened, was the source of his motivation to join the conspiracy group called, simply, the Organization. The plan, their oh-so brilliant, was to create anarchy. With anarchy, they could do anything.