She Killed: A Short Story

The light from the TV screen illuminated the bedroom in a flickering glow, as the screen constantly changed between a scene of a mass murder, and a female reporter in a black suit and tie. The reporter's voice droned on about how and when the murders had been committed, and how the culprit was expected to be the same Stihr as last time. The screen flicked back to the heaps of bodies, now closed off to the public by yellow warning tape. A vast and seemingly quixotic amount of blood covered the disemboweled and occasionally dismembered corpses of the night-shift workers at the Empire State Building. Alastor gagged at the sight of the bodies, closing his eyes and grasping blindly for the remote. Seconds later, his fingers closed around the

“The violence of the crash, the noise, the small table overturning, helped bring her out of he shock. She came out slowly, feeling cold and surprised, and she stood for a while blinking at the body, still holding the ridiculous piece of meat tight

As Alice was going through major hell during the rape and even after the rape, it seemed as it was not taken seriously by others. Alice describes her pain, fears, and many problems that came along the way when it came for fighting for herself and the after effect of the rape. Being a rape victim was not easy, and Alice showed many signals that she needed more than just comfort, but sadly many of them failed to provide that for her.

“ You must go with Tidbit. Master Clay is asking for you. Amari looked at Polly, then the child, and suddenly seeming to understand, she groaned. No! No! No! she begged. Polly touched her arm but couldn't think how to help her. Amari finally took a deep breath, stood up without a word, and followed the child out of the door.” She couldn't do anything about it or she was gone go to the field. It was the first time she got raped by Clay. They were having dinner and Amari was helping Teenie out. Amari accidently dropped the food and Mr. Derby was whipping her. “ Finally, Isabell Derby got up from the table and walked over to her husband. Noticeably trembling, she grabbed his hand as he lifted it to strike Amari again, enough she said i think she learned her lesson now.” She couldn't help herself while she was getting beat or it was just going to be worse. If it wasn't for Mrs. Derby who knows how long he would've continued to whip her. Amari had to clean up the blood and after she healed she had to go to the field. Amari, Polly, and Tidbit had ran away because he figured out the baby was by his wife's slave. Polly and Amari helped hide the baby. Teenie didn't tell him so he was going to severely punish or was going to kill them. “ Fire, Amari said quietly. Glory be, Polly whispered. She slowly fed the flames with leaves and small sticks until it became large enough to ease their shakes and shivers. She felt helpless because they didn't know how

And how twisted was the world, that his victim would forgive him before he forgave himself? That after he’d raped her, he was the one crying, it was him needing her comfort? She was always like this… this frightening mix of strength and vulnerability, both built upon suffering he, back then, could never even fathom. Now though… now he was beginning to understand what made her like

A slap in the face, a smart-ass retort, a fake nonchalant smile, or even a hint of fear, and tremor in her limbs or voice. Pete Norris had expected one of those, or a combination of all, after he'd gripped the woman's throat, and the feeling of her hand uselessly swatting at his own, displaying his superior strength as he slowly increased the pressure, brought forth the beginnings of an erection. The one reaction he didn't expect was a kiss, and the murderer's eyes widened, not in shock, but utter confusion, when Analise Helm, released from his grip, pressed the soft swell of her breasts to his chest, and mashed her mouth against his. Instinctively, he raised his arm to her hip to push her away and regain control, but before he knew it, the kiss was over, and all he was left with as she walked out the door, was the taste of her lipstick, and lingering sensation of her tongue against his.

And lastly, the complicated issues of dealing with the sexual and physical nature of an attack on one’s self would be terrifying and change a person forever. Though each girl experiences distinctly different events, each event vividly shows the loss of innocence the girl is involved in and that it will forever change

When the supposable love of your life turns it around in the space of 2 minutes… Most will be thinking how is this possible, but for Helen Meads, this event changed her life for the worse. David White describes the events of that day, and what led to it, and tells of the ordeals that a family is subjected to when one of their own is murdered. It is a poignant and compelling story. There are issues of custody, access and bail, and looming court appearances. And often, as in this case, there is the killer’s family to deal with. Finally, there is also the bureaucracy and the media that have to be faced and accepted as inevitable intrusions on the private lives of the victim’s families – families who would prefer to be left alone to grieve. Now

She was driven to a house, with an armed guard stationed outside and led to an attached room. And her torture

Tom sat on the sofa, his shoulders hunched forward, his eyes staring listlessly into space. In his hands, a forgotten cup of coffee trembled violently, the lukewarm liquid spilling over his fingers. He hadn’t uttered a single word since his impassioned attempt to justify Booker’s assault, and as the minutes ticked by, his silence only added to Doug’s concerns. Although not an expert, as a cop, Penhall understood about trauma, and fearing his friend was going into shock, he made the decision to call 911. With an ambulance on its way, he dialed a second number, and after a brief conversation, he hung up. Turning his attention to Tom, he wondered how to proceed. While he wanted to offer comfort, he honestly did not know what to say. How did you console the victim of sexual assault when the perpetrator was a trusted colleague you worked side by side with day in day out? He was out of his depth and terrified of making matters worse, but he knew he needed to do something other than making a cup of coffee, and approaching Tom, he squatted down and laid a hand on his knee. “How ya doin’, buddy?”

It’s a pity one half of the world does not know how the other half lives. So too, what the eye doesn’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.

Eileen tried to smile at him, tried to ward off the insecurity and jealousy that clouded her mind every time she was reminded of his almost perfect face. Slowly, she inched her hand behind her back and clutched the handle of her knife reassuringly. A few moments of stillness passed, with Eileen trying to build up the courage to walk up to her husband and stab him in the heart, before she noticed the gun her husband held in his right hand and the finger he had curled lazily around the

She couldn't take it. Her whimpers and quiet pleads weren't enough for her to stop. Instead, it was only proof for her to keep up with the act. She did not want to be weak. Continuing on with the blissful torture, she kept her hand in place.

The darkness was overwhelming, but it could feel the thump of heart beats getting closer; The crunching of feet stomping on the forest floor. It felt joy rippling through its soul. It’ll be able to spread its gold fever blood, sweat, tears; the feeling of being wanted was intoxicating. Knowing people would annihilate a race just to have it. It happened before with the Spaniards; slaughtering the Indians their cries echoed throughout the night as they fell to the bullets. The copper hit the air a delicious smell, but the miners they were something else. Murdering their own flesh, and blood brothers. The agony of some that died of slow deaths. Being eaten alive by much more then greed. It felt a sharp thud as one of the three children’s foot

Everyone experiences sorrow in their lives, it is not an enjoyable feeling, but a person may learn life lessons from dealing with it. Two women experience the dreadful feeling of sorrow in two different stories. The first woman’s name is Faye, from A Secret Sorrow by Karen van der Zee. The second woman is from “The Sorrowful Woman” by Gail Godwin. In both stories sorrow plays a big role in the plots, but the two stories are extremely different. The story, written by van der Zee is more enjoyable than Godwin’s because of the way the characters behave, the conflict, and fairy tale qualities.