A good friend’s 13 year old son was murdered by another 13 year old, in front of his (the victim’s) twin brother. Apparently there had not been a fight or anything, my friend’s son was lying on the floor on the phone chatting with his girlfriend when the kid walked up and shot him point blank in the chest. I don’t know if the kid knew if the gun was loaded or not; apparently he stole it from a relative.
One of the many things that pissed me off about this was the attitude of the hospital where the child was taken. He was DOA, This hospital did NOTHING for the mother of a murdered 13 year old. Did not offer counseling, did not offer a sedative, nothing.
A friend and I were supposed to meet my friend and her boyfriend to throw darts that night. When we got to the bar and heard there had been an accident with one of her children, we went straight to her house.
They were just getting back from the hospital. She, quite understandably, was in hysterics. I sent my friend to the store for a bottle of Nyquil.
My six year old cousin was outside playing near his house near a ball field under construction. He was grabbed by a monster who strangled him and then bashed his head in with a cement block. He was found not guilty by reason of insanity and wound up getting released from the mental hospital and walks the streets to this day, 40 years later.
Every one of these stories is heartbreaking, but this in particular affected me. If I were with you right now, I’d give you a hug.
My grandparents had the same neighbors for over 50 years- their children grew up with my mother and my aunts and uncles. They had always been a part of my life, though not especially close- we went to the same church, they were around for major events like weddings and funerals, etc. They were both shot in their home about ten years ago. It was ruled a robbery (their car was stolen too and later recovered) and the person the police believe did it was later murdered himself.
Last year a friend of mine through theatre/music stuff (he had played piano for a few shows I did and I had been to his house a handful of times- he was the most talented musician I’ve ever met) was murdered by one of his tenants. He had given him several chances to pay the rent, then had to evict him; the guy broke into his house and beat him to death, then apparently stayed there and drank for a few hours before taking a shower and dressing himself in John’s clothes.
Nobody I’ve ever personally known has been murdered. The closest connected to me I can think of would be my brother-in-law’s uncle, murdered in the 1970s in the Troubles in Northern Ireland, or a neighbour of my uncle’s, murdered in the Omagh bombing.
A girl I went to school with was murdered by terrorists when she was eleven, although I’m sure they’d call it an act of war or something. Another girl I went to school with disappeared in her early twenties; no one knows what happened, but it looks like murder.
I had a neighbor shot and killed, directly below the window I was sleeping near. He was walking down the path to our apartment parking lot at 7AM on his way to work when a guy in a hoodie emptied a whole clip into him. It woke me up, obviously. I didn’t see anything, but the neighbors across the street saw the shooter fleeing the scene. I did see the body shortly thereafter. There was surprisingly little blood. His roommate showed up right afterward and stumbled on the body.
I don’t know anyone who was successfully murdered, but one of my half-cousins made a serious attempt at killing his little brother when he was about 7. Planned, and very nearly carried out; we are not talking normal sibling interaction here. The little one, aged about 4, spent some time in hospital, but the older one didn’t really even get in any trouble, I don’t think. That was one messed up family.
They’re suprisingly OK now, in their mid to late teens, after being in seperate care homes since their mother killed herself the year after the incident.
I’ve been teaching since 1985. As much as I might want to, I cannot unfuck these kids in 45 minutes a day while simultaneously covering the mandated subject material. It took generations of poverty, drug abuse, inbreeding, and crime to produce them.
Jesus, people, this thread is fucking depressing! C’mon, let’s make with the HAPPY murder stories already.
Now that’s more like it. Loud music at 3am? Pet cat shitting once too often on your doorstep? Ah, who cares, you were proactive and that’s the main thing.
The ex-stepfather of a friend of mine fell off the wagon again and was sleeping in Golden Gate Park when someone beat him to death with a baseball bat. The prevailing theory is that someone wanted to kill a person, and figured no one would miss a homeless guy.
Not someone I knew personally, but the sister of my boyfriend’s best friend was murdered by her husband, in front of their young children. The nauseating part is that her parents support the husband, on the grounds that if she’d been a better wife, he wouldn’t have had to shoot her.
I had a best friend in elementary school. We parted ways. I hadn’t heard from her in about twenty years, when I heard on the news that she had been murdered while delivering pizza by a guy with a hammer.
She was substituting on the job for her son. Horrible.
A girl in my sister’s grade (so, one year behind me) was murdered when she was 19. She rode to school on the same bus we did. She was friends with a guy who was friends with a drug dealer, and they were having a small party in the dealer’s house (just alcohol, so I’ve heard). It was just 5 young people ranging in age from 19 to 23. She didn’t do drugs herself, apparently. But a rival drug dealer got tired of this guy honing in on “his” turf, and picked that night to crash the party with 2 friends. They shot all 5 attendees. 2 survived, but the girl I knew died along with 2 other people (neither of whom I knew). She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, she was a really nice person and a hard worker.
The dealer (only 22 years old) was sentenced to 270 years, served consecutively. He was supposed to be on an episode of America’s Most Wanted, but turned himself in before that point (he has never admitted guilt, and still claims he’s innocent). One of his accomplices got 175 years, and the other ratted them both out in exchange for a 45-year sentence.
A girl I knew (I hung out with her brother) in college, was jogging in an affluent part of the city, when, out of the blue, a psychologically disturbed teenager stabbed her. The injuries weren’t life threatening on their own, but she went into shock on the way to the hospital, and died. Her family is incredible. They’ve turned her death into a charity run whose foundation supports Make-A-Wish kids. And they’ve publicly forgiven her murderer.
I also used to work for the mayor of a small municipality. Many years after I quit working there, he was murdered by a neighbor who went on a killing rampage for reasons unknown. It’s theorized that the mayor refused to lend him his truck (because he wanted to go get drugs?) and that set the guy off. He murdered the Mayor and his long-term girlfriend in their bed, set their house on fire, then went off and murdered his ex sister-in-law. Bizarro.
My nursing supervisor, a sweet, funny scatter-brain, who, more than once, showed up at work with shoes that didn’t match, was beaten to death by her husband.
One never would have guessed she was in such a relationship. She worked in a major trauma center. She was responsible for finding shelter and councelling for domestic violence victims.
Thankfully I can’t answer in the affirmative, but I have sat in the kitchen of a killer and chatted with him, unaware that the remains of his wife were buried a few feet away under his garage. She was found a few years later, and he was convicted of manslaughter, IIRC, and served about 4 years.
Also, my friend’s grandparents died in a murder suicide before she was born.