Quote:
Originally Posted by Asher Bertrand  Dun care about any of that. Don't care about what he "feels," assuming he feels anything. I just want him to stop breathing my air. Some things just really are that bad that they should be dealt with this way. Killing three of your children plus another child you raised from infancy over an argument with your wife/girlfriend - that's one of them. It's not like it was an accident, or a spur of the moment thing. It involved loading the kids into the car, driving to a suitable location, and tossing them one by one OVER A FUCKING BRIDGE. How many times along the way did he have a chance to reconsider and think, "You know, maybe this isn't such a good idea." Even after he killed the first (my god), he could have stopped and saved the other three. Then the other two. Then the other one. But he didn't. Screw that. He needs to stop breathing. |
More details:
He started off leaving the house with the first two, then came back for the second two. (One assumes the mother was at work, and the grandmother was taking care of them.)
He had been arguing with his wife over his drug use and his mistress.
He had previously, in Georgia, actually turned himself in for his own drug use. Then, I believe, fled the state.
The maternal instinct that gets aroused in me when I see pictures of those babies is so huge that I almost can't stand the thought of this happening to them.
Interestingly, I expected the maternal instinct to quieten down as I got older. Apparently it does not; it becomes fiercer and more all-encompassing.
Or may do that only if you have had babies (or gotten babies); I can't tell about that, since I have not not gotten babies.
But it is EXTREMELY difficult for me to view those pictures and not want to take care of and love on those babies even if they had two wonderful parents taking care of them already! That's how strong this instinct is.
Now add to that their deaths, and the manner of them, and we get into incredible nightmare territory for me; I experienced the same problems with Andrea Yates, Lisa Steinberg, and other similar stories. (Which seem to have increased in recent years.)
The only thing that saves me is, ironically, being old enough to have achieved a certain sort of philosophical understanding that there will always be this sort of thing; and as I said earlier, the realization that for them, their pain is over, and God is now giving them far more love than I or their mother or anyone else ever could.
But let me tell you, it hurts like hell to look at those pictures. I can't even begin to imagine what the mother must be going through.
Nonetheless, somehow I'm not interested in making him suffer. I'm just interested in removing the defective unit, as it were; and as soon as possible. I'm not interested in rehabilitation in cases such as these.
coco