When murder is awaiting in the next bedroom - a true story

 

Hi,

How are you doing this week?

I came across this in a folder recently, which I'd forgotten about. It's likely based on a real news story. I'm sure you can work out what it's about.

Not fallen. Merely forgotten.

 

Lost, somewhere

In no man’s territory

Where man and woman reside

Apparent dust

On an already

Uneven surface.

 

Slipped through the cracks

They said

Yet there are no chasms

That snatch people from their homes.

 

They do more than walk amongst us

They are us.

 

Unsightly, unsavoury

But not unseen.

 

We remove our gaze

As it’s easier to convince ourselves

It’s someone else’s problem.

 

Professionals sign away a chemical release

As there’s always others to attend to

And no one wants to make the big call

As rights weigh more than sense.

 

So when sixty eight year old daddy

Is carved up in his loungeroom

By child number two

It’s simpler to pinpoint the devil

Than the details

And blame it on the Abyss.

I won't patronise you by 'explaining' it. But there was a time in the nineties in Australia when many large mental health hospitals were closed down by governments. Some cited abuse as the cause but what has followed in the intervening years is surely worse. It was simply cost cutting.  Young people were placed into closed off sections in nursing homes. I saw one first hand in a nursing home I worked in. I didn't see it as a better solution than a hospital. Staff are not trained for it nor is it the right environment. 50 year olds with serious mental illness in public areas with frail 90 year olds. There were incidents. It's not right. 

Many others are out on the street who are not able to look after themselves. There's a whole big discussion here but many horrific situations like the one above have taken place as a result, often with family members as the first in line to take the fall.

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Topical but not a new problem

There's been a lot of talk in Australia lately, especially New South Wales about the problems of alcohol related violence. In particular, the tameness of the sentencing. Of course, this is not a local problem but a global one. It's also a very personal one. I've been assaulted twice, both involving alcohol. The first one occurred not in the inner city but in rural Victoria.

The second was in Ireland. Without going into detail, I'm probably lucky to be alive. I spent time in hospital and suffered post traumatic stress. Given situations faced by others, I suppose I am quite lucky. 

It's a subject clearly close to me. There has always been this issue, so why is it worse today? Are young people so disengaged from the world thanks to the barrier of social media/video games etc that they lack communication skills? Is it over reporting by the media or is it something else?

All I can do is present to you a poem I wrote over a year ago in the first week of January 2013. I had hoped that it would have been published but its too topical to wait around for rejections (there were three). This is based on a story I read about that occurred here in Australia. Of course, it could be anywhere. As in much of my writing, I built upon existing truth without exposing what is real and what isn't. 

Last Orders and Broken Rules

He was looking forward to that first beer

Though for an reason he could not explain

Believed if he began drinking

Before 6 pm

It made you an alcoholic

Unlike his three friends

Who had begun

Some 80 minutes previously

And had called him pussy

He probably could have gotten away with it

Being New Year’s Eve

Eve

And 20 years old

Yet was determined to hang on for another 30 minutes

Easy enough

As they had already left the pub

And were at a 2 bit pizzeria

(Though you wouldn’t expect more

In a small coastal tourist town).

Feeling the full force

Of the sinking sun’s rays

Enough to bring on a sweat

In turn, enough to initiate a yearning

For that first beer

The irony being, that he had to wait

Until they finished eating

By which time it would be after 6

Even though he was prepared to break his own rule

This once

When they suddenly arrived

Lugging attitude

And aggression

Evident in their faces

And postures

Before they said,

‘What they fuck youse lookin' at?’

He counted 5 of them

Before turning away

And had not said a word

Though the unofficial leader of his group

Had already begun to temper

The situation

Which was already nasty

For no real reason at all

That he could think of.

He briefly fantasised

About the nearby beach

(an opposing state to his city living)

And that ice cold beer

Which abruptly seemed

So far away

When the nearest intruder lunged

(sort of fell)

onto him

And something hit him in the face

And he went back in his chair

And knew that he was going to hit the concrete

Hard

Was already destined to

His body not of his control.

His perception ceased.

Chaos followed

Shouting

Spectators

Running

Though one was left

Motionless.

Ambulance
Police

Source

Hospital

Statements, frowns and tears

67 hours later

Life support turned off.

4 days after that

Arrests made

And while a 26 second battle

Became a lifetime struggle

For all

It’s difficult to determine

What was the point.

Nothing angers me more than the gutless, pathetic cowards who inflict violence on another, usually when they're unaware, and the lack of adequate sentencing by judges and government, who travel safely from cars to work and to their dinner parties, and rarely are exposed to these loose cannons, who do not deserve the freedoms that some in other countries, would give their left hand for. 

www.victimsservices.justice.nsw.gov.au

www.drinkwise.org.au/

https://www.victimsofcrime.vic.gov.au/victims-support-agency

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