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Justified Murder.

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Justified Murder Stephanie da Roza, 11F, 15 June 2001 Daniel Hawthorne was walking home from the late business meeting he had been forced to attend. All he wanted to do was to go home and hug his daughter Lily. His wife had died 5 years ago and his 6-year-old little girl was his everything. At the end of the lane was his house, a respectable house in the suburbs of Los Angeles. Lily's room was at the window to the right with the teddy bear sitting on the sill. The light was still on in the living room but Lily should have been in bed. Maybe the sitter was still downstairs in the living room, he thought the door to his house opened. A man walked out of his house. When the man heard Hawthorne's footsteps he turned to face him before he ran into the darkness. Hawthorne started running. What had happened? Was Lily hurt? How had that man gotten in? He reached the door of the house. He entered and saw that everything seemed in order, but the baby sitter was no where to be found. ...read more.


He couldn't come to terms with his grief. It washed over him in waves and controlled his every move and thought. He couldn't let number 6 go; he had killed his daughter. The police had failed him and the legal system had failed him but he would not fail himself, number 6 would be punished. For days he pondered how he would carry out his act of vengeance. He could not go to anyone else, as they would report him to the authorities so he would have to do it by himself. He couldn't sleep so he sat alone in living room, whispering to the walls "I will not let the person who killed you go free, Lily, don't you worry, your daddy is here for you." He went to a drawer and pulled out a revolver, it wasn't loaded because he was afraid of the accidents that could happen if his Lily found the gun, "no need to worry about that now" he muttered. But as he looked at the gun he realised that he couldn't kill the murderer then and there, he would almost surely be caught. ...read more.


He walked out the back entrance of the bathroom so no one would see him. Leaving all his belongings, apart from his knife, behind the motel he walked to number 6's small, crummy apartment building. It was 7:50 by his watch as he climbed the steps to the right floor and entered the apartment. It was surprisingly easy as there only one lock to pick which he did very quietly. He entered the apartment silently and saw number 6 with his back to him in a sofa watching TV. Hawthorne took out his knife, stepped behind number 6 and slashed his throat like the doll. A perfect execution. Number 6 lay on the ground for a few seconds, his screams coming out as gurgles in the blood seeping out of his gutted neck. Hawthorne then left as quietly as he had come, he picked up his belongings from behind the motel and left for home. * * * * * When the police asked neighbours about Keith Stevens's death, they say they saw a Caucasian man with dark brown hair and sunglasses walking into and out of the building at the time of the murder. Nothing else was found out about this man, not a hair or fibre or fingerprint. Hawthorne reached his room and at last fell to sleep. ...read more.

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