fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about copycat killers, eyewitnesses testimony, what makes a murderer and more.
scammers inc.
SCAMMERS INC. Scamming people is an art form, a creative seducing skill that leads individuals down a sorrowful, regretful, and angry path. I have been down that road, though fortunately, I have lost little money. My pride, however, was severely damaged. It could have been devastating. My marriage may well have been affected, the relationship with my children might have ended. But like a chronic gambler or an alcoholic, I told lies to hide my wayward journey into the licentiousness of possibly ill-gotten gains or losses.
By Peter Bowden5 years ago in Criminal
Are Women Safe Walking Alone At Night?
Sarah Everard, a woman who was walking alone at night in London, UK, was found murdered, allegedly at the hands of a police officer. It's a gruesome and disturbing case that has a whole lot of people rightly upset, and has reignited a discussion about the safety of women in our societies.
By Chris Hearn5 years ago in Criminal
My Coworker Hired Someone To Kill Her Husband
She had a tone deaf quality, an aura of entitlement that felt so out of place it was easy to dismiss. Clear to me now it was a shield against her own feelings of entrapment in a life that was unexpected in its unhappiness.
By joy ellen sauter5 years ago in Criminal
Reprisal
Reprisal Cries of 'Stop, stop!' rang throughout the Carrow Valley High hallways. Johnnie, deemed a nerd by classmates, stood at five foot five weighing one hundred and thirty pounds, with the anatomical structure of an underdeveloped seventh grader, was having his locker rummaged by Christian, a five foot eight one hundred and seventy pound bully who through the eyes of Johnnie grew a little bigger each day. There was little regard for any of Johnnie's personal belongings, including his feelings. His Lunch money was stolen, homework crumbled, Christian even found a little black notebook covered in anime stickers, a safe haven where Johnnie stored his thoughts, his fears, and his heart. Christian removed the elastic bound and opened the notebook, revealing the vulnerable content. This was an opportunity for a bully to do what bullies do. Christian hastily flipped through the pages stopping at the page labeled 'naked and afraid' after a quick skim through, Christian thought to read it aloud. "Who am I? What am I? Why do I feel so powerless? Everyday I am harassed and abused, my spirit wants to fight, yet my body is afraid. I'm so weak. Today I set a goal to complete ten push ups, I couldn't even complete one. God, why is this happening to me? Help me please God! Please God, where are you?" It read.
By Byron Perry5 years ago in Criminal
From Paris, with Angst
“I haaate Paris right now.” I fumbled through my toiletries bag for something to help my hurting brain…I was definitely thirty, my punishment for such indulgences: wine, bread, cheese, dessert, more wine. It was a trip I’d planned with my grandmother, but I’d go alone years after her passing. Here I was on our trip, painfully hungover, with a man I only knew by his nickname.
By Brandye Kemp5 years ago in Criminal
El Tonelero Diabolico Blanco
“Abuelo, quédate conmigo, por favor”, the little girl murmured softly. “Grandpa, please stay with me.” The old man looked into her eyes, and wished more than anything that he could give her what she wanted. He wasn’t tired of living, but he’d lived at least two lives. He just couldn’t bear to break her heart. He’d caused enough heartbreak already. “Es la hora, mija.”. His breathing slowed, and on the backs of his eyelids a staccato slideshow of those lifetimes flickered. His face gave only the barest indication of the scenes he was reliving. His expression flowed from pride through amusement, then darkened as regret drew his features taut. The little girl would have been pleased that reflecting on his all-too-brief time with her had restored the sun in his soul, both in the moment and in his life.
By Walt Livingston5 years ago in Criminal
Herstory is Our Story
Alright, now breathe! In and out. In and out. My anxiety hasn’t gotten the better of me since law school, but I knew it would be back with a vengeance today. The incident in school lead to a midnight trip to the emergency room where an RN told me I was fine and just low on potassium. She sent me home with a banana and a large bill, but that is a story for a different day. Luckily, I invested in therapy and learned a couple tricks to come back to reality. The anticipation of today alone is shaking my heart and fogging up my lungs. Breathe in, breathe out, A – Anteaters, B-Bingo, C-Cantaloupe, D-Dynamite… I’m here, back in the court room.
By Katie Bolger5 years ago in Criminal
Digging Up Dirt
Twenty-thousand dollars and a little black notebook. That’s what was waiting for me inside a safety-deposit box in Williamsburg, Alabama less than a fortnight after the passing of my great-aunt Winnifred. She’d bequeathed it to me, her favorite nephew, even though she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of me in twenty-eight years.
By Michelle Jensen5 years ago in Criminal
