Serial Killers-Personal Narrative Fiction

I feel restless. I've been too reckless with my words. This feeling is heavier than a neutron star. It persists like an annoying toothache. I need some water, but I continue to lie in bed. Nothing seems to fascinate me more than my night light right now.….

This series follows Lydia Strong, a woman who 's mother was murdered when she was a kid; Lydia also came home one day and found her with her throat slit from ear to ear. She helped the police catch her mother 's killer way back when. This changed who she was, and would effect her development and make her who she would become. Now, she writes about killers-working as a true crime author and investigative consultant- and has an obsession: seeing brutal killers brought to justice.

When Alexander the great died witch he was the ruler of Egypt before Ptolemy XII won the fight between Alexander’s other generals for the throne.Queen Cleopatra VII was born on 70/69 BCE And died on August 30 BCE.Cleopatra became queen by the death of her father.Queen Cleopatra VII the last queen of Egypt in her time period defined society by being a great ruler in Egypt , not having many wars in her country .

The worst night came after my mom left us. Why she didn’t take me, I’ll never understand. It was almost as if she’d left me for dead; the result of her absence had an obvious consequence. I wish I didn’t have to take her place, but I did, and now I know how his words feel, stabbing you repeatedly. I know how his hands feel, leaving imprints on my face. I know how her

4. Serial killers also show signs of a psychopath though this is not always the case. Psychopaths lack empathy and guilt, are egocentric and impulsive and don’t conform to social, moral, or legal norms. Psychopaths have a distinct set of rules for themselves. They appear normal and are often very charming and charismatic.

Dean see Adriana music hit she walks out in tight leather bottoms similar to Nikki. He notices she is wearing a black Seth Rollins shirt. Roman notice he is staring to long. Dean mind was going to early the day.

It was February 12, 2006. My wife and I are about to get ready for the day we’ve been waiting for, we are finally going to seek justice for the man that killed my innocent 4 year old daughter. Since March 3rd I have slept absolutely none, but after today everything will be finished with.

When they woke the next morning, they wasted no time getting ready. They needed to stop by Kate’s apartment before they went to the precinct since she refused to show up to work in jeans and a ratty t shirt, even if she would change into her spare clothes immediately. She still took the time to take a shower at the loft, and Rick suspected it was only because she liked his shower more than her own, even though she insisted that it was only to save time.

Clock strikes and we climb up the stairs to a balcony where the night untraces the constellations of your cheeks

It can be said that most serial killers share some of the same personality traits, such as being characterized as power hungry, charming, and manipulative; traits all of which can be expressed by non-murders as well. So what makes serial killers different from normal people, non-murderous people, but also different from what we think of when discussing people with an abnormal mind? Some say, this specific type of psychopath may be a product of nature rather than nurture. Undoubtedly nurture does play some role in the formation of these covertly manic people. In many cases, such as with Charles Manson, reports of neglect throughout both childhood and young adulthood could have also been a key factor in “making a murder” out of a presumably normal human being, as is discussed throughout many studies of abnormal psychology.

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Freedom of speech is more than just words, it is posters, petitions, rallies, protests, and more. This lets opinions be shared and spread to make a difference in the world. The problem is that in schools there is a limit on the amount of freedom of speech students can have. How are students supposed to feel like they have a voice when they are being told that they can only speak of certain topics? By what means could student be educated on their rights like the First Amendment if they cannot have full access to that right at all times? Students are brought together by freedom of speech, schools should not be stopping that. It is essential that freedom of speech in schools should not be limited because it gives students a voice, it educates them on their rights, and it brings students together.

And I was there, too, hoping to find you and say to you, Come back, come back, there's only one street, one door, we didn't mean it, we didn't know, whatever was wrong will be different. Several times I decided you were dead, even wished you were dead, but then another postcard would come, with another message to ponder. And I've always read them, even when my husband said not to, even if they've driven me to tears or rage or a blankness when I've no longer cared if you were dead or anyone were dead, including myself. I've been faithful, too, you see. I've always looked up where you were in the atlas, and put your postcards in the box. Sixtythree postcards, four hundred—odd lines of scrawl: our life together. Why are you standing there like that? my daughter asks me. I must have been away somewhere, I say. But I'm back. Yes. You see, Mother, I always come back. That's the distance that separates us. But on summer evenings, when the windows are open to the dusk, I sometimes smell cities … wheat fields … oceans—strange smells from far away—all the places you've been to that I never will. I smell them as if they weren't pictures on a postcard, but real, as close as my outstretched hand. And sometimes in the middle of the night, I'll sit bolt upright, my husband instantly awake and frightened, asking, What is it? What is it?

My day begins again with a drone of the same ringtone of the alarm. Getting up to open the window forgetting about the same old raven bird that stares at me with its whole black eyes sending you into a black spiral. The sense of nostalgia hits, rain leaves its own scent like the scent of an ex-lover’s. After all eternity doesn’t wait for the past to catch up, you just keep on going with your life as I have. Making my way to the kitchen I avoid all the papers on the floor scattered like a tornado threw up and shredded its life. My hands twitches to grab the phone eager to check for the ghost messages and calls. Putting down my arm as soons as it raises “don’t do it”. I turn in circles to find someone but in its leave was nothing. “ I know” I whispered to no one. The hallway was filled with darkness except for one room whose light was slowly dimming. Darting past the shadowed hands reaching for me I went into the room. Searching for that dark grey raincoat that was hung up on a hanger in the half empty closet.

Sugar spins & vaporizes on my tongue; your skin becomes crystallized. Take me out of my head; make me forget. Steal me from my body for a night. I need your eyes. I need your bullet.