Résultats de "David Boyer" dans Toutes les catégories

Kids and teens who bully need our support and compassion just as much - if not more at times - than the victims of bullying. If we want bullying to stop, or at least slow down, we need to begin helping them to grow up learning how to interrelate with others without any harassment or manipulation on their part, to fit into society, not doling out meaningless, so called "punishments" that will most likely make their overall attitude even worse.

July, 1975. Vincennes, Indiana. It was the summer of '75. A time of killer sharks at the movies - Alice Cooper's Nightmare and Star Trek: A Technical Manual - none of which really appealed to me, but then, I wasn't part of the pop culture "in" crowd. Fortunately, I wasn't alone.

On December 24, 2019, after almost six years of being an in home caregiver for my mother, it suddenly all came to an abrupt ending when my mother had to be admitted to the hospital - and then a nursing home - for her own good. One would think a man in my position would have felt at least a certain amount of relief, knowing in his heart that she was better off in the hands of trained employees who could give her 24-hour care, which I myself could not provide. What happened to me over the next few weeks all came crashing down on me at the same time.

This volume - just like the second volume - is somewhat different in theme than the first one. Whereas the first volume featured a variety of subjects, some of them even having to do with world events, this volume tends to lean in a totally different direction, some of the stories focusing on subjects more personal to us all, the stories more humble or grounded in the reality of life no matter how hard it may to deal with at times.

I always enjoy looking back on my memories of growing up in Vincennes, Indiana. No matter how many things change as the years fly by, I will always look back fondly upon my time here in V-Town, and I hope this series of stories will spark a happy memory for you, too. Regardless of how these stories may affect you, I am sure that everyone in my hometown will find something in these sections to make you smile.

Unfortunately, even small towns - Vincennes included - eventually change, sometimes for the better, and other times, not so much. It's the natural order of things. Trees grow old and fall. Sidewalks split and crack and are replaced for public safety's sake. Old houses - and all the memories associated with them - are demolished and replaced with parking lots or duplexes. Even historical landmarks - Mother Nature, and Father Time having taken their toll - sadly, vanish - except for our own pictures and memories of them.

When Aileen and her brother were little kids, they thought their grandparents were their real parents. Truth was, their father was a satanist and child molester who hung himself in prison. Their mother was a whore who abandoned them when they were barely out of diapers. But that was nothing compared to what awaited her out in the real world.

Dolores Oliver, fondly nicknamed "Lert" by her friends as a term of endearment, was out an outgoing and friendly woman who was well liked by all who knew her. Yet, on September 7, 1974, while on a visit to a local bar to chat with friends, she simply vanished without a trace. Foul play was immediately suspected by her family, who knew in their hearts that they could think of absolutely no one who would want to do her any harm. Yet her lifeless body was found at the end of October in a bean field by a farmer in Illinois.

As of 2015, it is believed that there are at least 200 serial killers active in the United States at any given time - 33 of them were from Indiana. Nobody in their own home town would have wanted to imagine a fledgling serial killer lurking about, searching for his next victim. Or imagine one being their next door neighbor or the relative of a friend or even attending the local college. Yet, since the early 1970s, Vincennes, Indiana, Knox County, and Indiana in general has had it's share of cold blooded murder.

Blue Shirt meets up with a fellow drifter, Ollie, who, along with his niece, Frieda, goes on another crime spree.

In the tradition of Edgar Allan Poe, author David Boyer presents The Flesh Once Removed, a collection of dark poetry and prose guaranteed to elicit a shiver and chill the blood. Also included: "Edgar and Annabel", dark poetry dedicated to the late Edgar Allan Poe, as well as numerous other poems written with Edgar in mind.

As Billy approached the parking lot, he could smell it: a dark scent, musky and wild and tangy on his taste buds as he breathed it in. The smell of wet fur and dried blood were what he identified next and knew he had been here recently. It wasn't hard to track Sampson. He left dead hookers wherever he went. Sampson was much older now, but he was still very strong as an opponent.

Sampson Faith lay in the darkness of the motel room, his hands, arms, and torso smeared with dried blood. As he opened his eyes, his vision tunneled once more. He stared into the abyss and it stared back into him. He felt the hand of God within him for the first time in years...but it wasn't soon enough to save the life of his most recent victim.

Now, Billy did believe in ghosts. Missy, completely whole again, if only for a brief moment in time, moved into the real world so that he could see and hear her singing. She began with the song she chose five years ago, stepping out of the shadows into a convenient patch of moonlight filtering in through the dirty clouds above them, looming over them like big gray ghosts.

The Hoosier state has had more than its share of good ghost stories over the years. But ghostly hauntings aren't the only creepy and strange happenings that have made campfire tales all the more interesting and spine-tingling. Feel free to listen to Strange Happenings in the Hoosier Heartland. If you dare...

Trisha was one of the forgotten ones, the walking wounded, the expendables. Just like a lot of other young girls who inadvertently get mixed up with the wrong crowd, hang around the wrong places, live teetering on the very edge of society, she was nothing more than a statistic on a sheet, another lonely number among many others. She'd been classified as just another one of the "nearly dead", meaning that her lifestyle was surely going to kill her anyway, even if someone else didn't kill her first.

Right outside Jacksonville, in the pitch-black darkness, the guy stood naked in the moonlight, surveying his current surroundings in horrified awe and wondering how it all came to this. He noticed that blood appeared almost black in the moonlight. There was a pool of it at his feet, having dripped down his lanky frame in rivulets, only moments ago.

He’s a cutter. He uses the knife and I’m the Thanksgiving turkey that needs to be carved. I have blood all down my arms and legs. He cut on my backside and if I get out of here I don’t know how I can explain those scars without having to tell how stupid I was to get in his car...says Tina, a victim of a serial killer who enjoys slowly torturing his victims. But what he doesn't know is, he has finally met his match.

Tonight, as he stood over the body of the burger lady, he felt that way again - reborn. Powerful and invincible. He'd learned through horrible, ritualistic torture and trail and error how to feel power again, any time he pleased. Love is malice, and malice love. He'd learned this as a child. Now he was ready to show the world just how powerful - and crazy - he really was...

Serial killer Martin Campbell has planted his seed within her now, one he hopes will grow stronger and be nurtured by her to it’s full maturity. She can feel it coursing through her veins like a runaway train, her adrenaline pumping now as well, as she descends the dirt path behind their condo and into the darkness of the ghostly tree line. He will follow close behind her - only to make sure she is an apt pupil - but not too close, doesn’t want to throw off her concentration. After tonight, though, she will be on her own.