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twdmusicboxmystery · 1 year

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Parallels Between Rosita’s Death and Bethyl via @wdway

@wdway:

Here I go again, another long ramble. This one came about from reading comments of so many people who were angry at how peacefully Rosita died.

Apparently a lot of people felt it was unrealistic on a show about dead people walking around for someone to die in peace. One person did have a very interesting thought. Could Eugene had given Rosita something just like he gave Sasha in s7 to easy her into her final journey?

I found that idea to be very intriguing so I went back today to rewatch Rosita's death. IMHO Rosita had the most peaceful and beautiful death of the entire TWD series. I decided to not go straight to Rosita's death but to her last supper. And found myself as I often do falling into a rabbit hole.

Rosita's last supper reminded me of Beth and Daryl's. Gabriel the Sirius symbol in the same position as Beth the Christ figure. Rosita and Daryl the two apocalyptic warriors sitting to their left.

We know that Rosita told Gabriel what is happening, that she is dying and we see that a very watchful and perceptive Judith understanding what must be happening.

Soon after we see Carol and Maggie helping Rosita to bed. It seemed that Rosita had suddenly become weaker and a bit unsteady on her feet. It occurred to me that if knowing in fact that we were going to very quickly face a very painful death that would turn us into a monster how would we choose to die? I think for most people it would be to simply fall asleep.

I'm theorizing that Rosita was given an overdose of sleeping pills. Unless at some point the writers tell us outright we will never know for sure but the writers did give us a clue in e23 when Princess over the radio gave a code name of Aurora. Aurora or polar lights is a display of brilliant green lights in the northern night sky. Aurora is also the name of a fairy tale princess better known as Sleeping Beauty.

After Carol and Maggie puts Rosita to bed they leave passing Daryl in the doorway. Again I am reminded of Daryl watching another beautiful young woman from a doorway.

Daryl watches ask Gabriel enters and kneels next to Rosita bed taking her hand in his and begins to pray. I can only imagine that Daryl is witnessing the funeral he wished he could have given Beth. A person who wished to give the dead the respect and honor of a funeral.

Gabriel rises and moves to the other side of the bed while Rosita stretches out her left hand to touch her beloved child, Coco.

The name Gabriel has a very special meaning in the Bible. Gabriel was an Archangel of God and messenger of his good news.

He gives us a prophecy here. We'll see you again someday.

Sirius Messenger Gabriel scoops up the sleeping cocoa and carries her out of the room as Eugene enters. All the while Daryl is watching from the doorway.

Something I realized as I watched Gabriel carrying little Coco dressed in pink and green was that Rosita is not the Sleeping Beauty, she is not Aurora. Cocoa is. Rosita will never awaken from her sleep but Coco will.

We had just heard the Messenger Galadriel give the good news, we'll see you again someday. Aurora awoke from her deep sleep to find her true love. There is another Aurora. Another Sleeping Beauty and her name is Beth Greene.

Sleep in eternal peace Rosita.

@galadrieljones:

I’m crying at the club. That was beautiful. So sad, but beautiful

Your observations here intrigued me, too. Look at the composition of each shot. Beth is visually paralleled with the pink roses.

I remember those roses. They stood out so prominently ahead of Norman.

I also love your assessment of the angel Gabriel carrying Coco, and how this communicates a connection to Beth.

Also I haven’t talked at all about Rosita’s death. I think it affected me more than any of the other deaths, other than perhaps Lori’s. As a mother, it physically hurt me to watch Gabriel carry Coco away from Rosita. I couldn’t imagine having the strength to let go the way she did in the end. It was very hard to watch, and I’m still sad to think of it.

Lori’s death is the only other death that made me feel physically sick. The others have made me sad, especially Beth’s, which sort of angers me actually. But just Lori’s and Rosita’s have made me feel sick, just because of how much I empathize with them in those final moments, and it makes me think about how terrifying it would be to have to say goodbye to your child forever. Very good show.

It’s very crazy to me how far Rosita came. She started off as such a minor character that barely affected the narrative at all. It wasn’t until season 7 that she really started to come together, and then slowly she became such a pillar in the family. RIP Rosita.

@twdmusicboxmystery:

Love this too! So beautiful! I couldn’t figure out why specifically they showed Daryl watching. I mean, other than the obvious of Rosita dying. But I think you came up with a very good explanation here. Really love it!

@wdway:

Thank you guys. I appreciate your kind words. When I went back to watch this afternoon I honestly was just thinking in terms of did they give Rosita something to help her die? It just snow balled from there.

The true reason that I went all the way back to the dinner scene was that I wanted to listen to the Stevie Nicks song. Then when I was watching Rosita and Gabriel I just thought this looks like Alone. When they took Rosita to the beautiful Fairy Tail like bedroom I just thought what a beautiful scene her laying on the bed like a princess. It was Daryl dressed in black that was actually breaking my heart standing in that white doorway.

I kept thinking that he had to be comparing this to Beth. I started to try to pull Snow White into it but I was starting to get tired even though I tried to go to bed and now I'm back up because I couldn't go to sleep ironically after writing about sleeping for the last few hours.

I believe it was sleeping pills but Rosita was given because that's what she did, she finally just fell asleep. Can't we still consider that a poison? A take on a poisoned Apple something beautiful but deadly. Dyeing in your sleep isn't that everyone's wish. I thought how in the last year we had the story of the beloved Betty White who died in her sleep. What a beautiful peaceful way to go. Betty White/Snow White.

@galadrieljones, the flowers that are in the vase on the table in front of Daryl are not roses they're tulips. We do see pink roses in the shots with Eugene.

@galadrieljones:

Ah you’re right. They’re tulips! Still the resemblance with the pink stood out to me a lot.

@wdway:

I was thinking how tulips are such a spring flower. There were so many spring flowers in this episode. Spring a resurrection symbol of renewal and rebirth. I was thinking how it's a cliché but the famous phrase about Springtime in Paris. It's winter time though and they're supposed to be filming. I wonder if we'll see cherry blossoms anyway? We did see that one tree as Darrell was carrying Judith through the streets to the clinic there was a white potted pink blossomed tree I wonder if that was supposed to be cherry blossoms?

Isn't it strange how sometimes you put things together and you kind of understand why you're doing it but then later on it truly hits you why you group certain things together. Well this is one of those moments for me.

I think I subconsciously realized that what Beth was doing was reaching out for Daryl. In Daryl's shot he is laying on a white floor(white=Beth) with the black (black =Daryl) diamond representing Beth, he's reaching out for her.

In Rest In Peace Rosita is showing us that an extended arm symbolize reaching out for the most beloved thing in their life.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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petersmparker · 5 years

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The River Café (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Flash Thompson x Reader (as a Plot Device™️ (that I ended up being lowkey attached to?? hit me up flash))

Summary: You’ve decided that you’re going to go out and have a nice time, insistent feelings for your best friend Peter Parker or otherwise.

Word Count: 3757

Warnings: a spicey hint of sailor’s mouth

A/N: I started this two days ago and nearly shitcanned it but now I’m like... kinda in love with it?? I hope y’all like it, I know sticking Flash up in there is unusual but honestly I dig how it came together and I hope everyone’s willing to give it a shot 💙❤️ and also believe me when I say that Flash’s name is legitimately Eugene I fucking swear it (side note: consider this part of my congratulations to @moonstruckholland for one year on her blog!! I hope you enjoy this girl idk what your fic prefs are)

"Let's go on a date friday night."

Your group of friends has grown together over the past few years. Leaps and bounds past what you ever might have expected, even. It’s something that you still find yourself reassessing sometimes; occasionally getting caught off guard by something that’s actually pretty natural by now. You can’t help but be pleasantly surprised, though, when you catch yourself thinking back to what it was while witnessing what it is.

Sophomore year of highschool was a ton of awkwardness wrapped up in a silly belief that everyone had already become the person they were meant to be. Senior year, you find it much more appealing to declare just how much no one knows that they’re doing.

The one constant for you in all this time has been Peter. Peter, ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-working, has not remained static in his existence. He has, however, stayed unwaveringly connected to you. For him, you do the same.

You’re there when Uncle Ben dies, sitting in the stairwell of the funeral home when Peter can’t handle another person passing on their condolences. It’s you who makes Peter do his homework and study for his tests when he determines that he doesn’t need school anymore. Your eyes follow him as he sprints from the gymnasium on the night of homecoming, and again later when he decides to sneak off the bus to investigate the space ship descending upon New York. When you wake up on the other side of the Blip, it’s you who runs to Peter’s apartment to find him mourning the loss of his mentor.

“Don’t you get tired?” Peter asked once in junior year, as you wiped blood from his side with a wet wash cloth, fuming over the newest live report of J Jonah Jameson, “You don’t wish you didn’t have to deal with all of this?”

“Never,” you had responded, “I. . . I love you, Pete.”

Peter had given you a small, weak smile and returned to digging through the first aid kit, seemingly untouched by your admission. It’s not difficult to assume that he had interpreted it friendly in nature, and you figure that that’s proof enough of his nonexistent feelings for you.

That's why, a year later-- assured in the belief that Peter views you only as a friend and comfortable enough in the fact that you’re still figuring this whole life thing out-- you decide to accept the offer of one Flash Thompson for a date.

What’s the harm, you figure. It seems casual enough, and Flash had mellowed out over the years. He's no longer quite so quick to tease others or flaunt his wealth, and had become a relatively decent friend of yours. Worst case scenario, it’s awkward, you get a free meal, and the both of you continue on to pretend it didn’t happen. Best case. . .

Maybe you move on from Peter.

Peter shows up unannounced at your door late Friday afternoon with a backpack full of schoolwork and snacks. It's not unusual of him at all, and yet when you hurry to answer the door, the sight of him catches you by surprise.

His gaze flicks upward to your wet hair, twisted into a towel, and then down to your hands, which you're holding out cautiously to avoid ruining a fresh coat of black polish. The confusion on his face is amused in nature. You're not normally one to paint your nails unless there's an event going on.

"Uh, hi, Peter," you say, trying not to sound unwelcoming.

This is such bad timing.

"Hey," he greets, hand wrapping around the strap of his backpack, "What's up? I was thinking we could do homework for an hour and then give up to watch movies instead."

You hadn't told Peter about the date. Telling him, you feared, would feel like you were asking for him to disapprove. To ask you not to go. It wasn't a disappointment you were willing to inflict upon yourself. Not when you were feeling a bit of hope for the outcome of the date. You wanted to be enthusiastic; wanted to enjoy the company of a friend and see if something could come out of it that was more than hopeless pining.

"I kind of have plans," you admit, unable to meet his eye.

Confusion colors his tone now, too. "Oh, really? Well, uh, do you mind if I come in for a little while anyway? Since I'm here. I need a bit of help with the English assignment."

Part of you wants to say no. But you can't look at Peter Parker and turn him away, and so you back up to let him into your apartment. He knows the way to your room by now and leads the way there. Every available surface is littered with items of clothing. He'd seen your room somewhat messy before, but you can tell he isn't expecting it to look like a tornado has been through your closet. You avoid his eyes, embarrassed, when he turns to give you a questioning look.

He throws himself onto your bed, shifting to sit with his back against the headboard, and digs a notebook from his bag. After a moment, he pulls a dress out from under himself and puts it aside.

You find yourself standing awkwardly in the doorway. A glance at the alarm clock on your nightstand tells you that Flash will be picking you up in only forty-five minutes. Peter clearly doesn't intend to leave until he's asked, and you don't have the will to ask. Which means you're going to have to just finish getting ready, anyway, and send him off before Flash arrives.

"What did you need help with?" You ask, going over to the dresser to look into the mirror above it.

You remove the towel from your hair to find that it's mostly dry. Satisfied, you brush it all back, away from your face. You see him looking at you in the mirror, but attempt to ignore it. It's already uncomfortable enough preparing for a date in front of the guy you're in love with. Must he make you feel weird for prettying yourself up a bit, even inadvertently?

What did I do to deserve this? you wonder, and apply a hint of peach eyeshadow with the tip of your finger.

He looks back to the notebook. You pretend not to notice that, either.

"The argumentative essay," he says finally, with a sigh, "Mr. Sharpton said my thesis needs work."

"Sharpton tends to be a picky little bitch. Read it to me," you instruct, dabbing glitter onto your eyelids and across your freckles.

He does. It's not the worst thesis statement. The intention is clear. Peter's always been better with math and science, but he's never been hopeless with English, either. "Well, you've got all three prongs already," you start, before pausing to apply a healthy amount of clear gloss, "They're just not parallel. It sounds awkward. For what you're trying to say, you could probably just reorganize the sentence, but structure it around the phrase, 'Through the author's use of. . . '" you wave your hand, indicating his points, "'. . .blah blah blah is represented.'"

Peter hums in understanding, followed by the scratching of pen against paper. You take the time to apply mascara and go about picking through the clothes strewn around the room to reassess what to wear. Kneeling on the floor, you throw various clothes back toward the open closet door.

Too casual, too dressy, too casual, too casual, that's stained, ew.

Your cell phone beeps on the bedside table. The sound of pen on paper ceases. Before you can say anything, Peter, who've never minded reading your texts, picks it up out of habit. He reads the message out to you.

"Um. Flash says to wear something fancy?" He says, sounding disconcerted.

The sick feeling in your stomach is immediate.

"Uhh. Thanks."

You pull the black dress that you'd deemed too dressy back out of the closet, hoping to appear more casual and less about-to-vomit. Thirty minutes left. Not even that much. Just twenty minutes and you could have sent Peter home none the wiser and had an extra ten to hype yourself up for this date, but now you're confronted with the fact that Peter knows. He knows and you're going to have to hear about it.

"You're going out with Flash?" He asks as you attempt to quell your nerves by focusing very hard on removing the couple of cat hairs that stick to the velvet material of the dress.

"Yeah."

"Like, on a date?"

"Yeah."

You risk a glance at Peter. His expression is unreadable. The sight of it makes your stomach twist. To escape it, you step into the closet and close the door under the guise of changing clothes.

"How did that happen?" Peter calls through the door.

You wince. There's something in his tone like disappointment, and you realize that you never considered the possibility that he might judge you for your willingness to go on a date with Flash. Sure, they were something like friends nowadays, but maybe that didn't mean Peter actually genuinely liked the guy. The prospect of having just lost Peter's respect is like a needle to the heart.

"He- He asked me out after decathlon the other day. I thought it might be fun."

"That's. . . interesting," Peter says, tone still off in some way.

The feeling that spreads through you is gross. There's a bitter taste in your mouth. You hate it. This was supposed to be something simple, something nice you could enjoy for yourself. You don't want Peter to ruin it for you, whether or not that's his intention.

You tug on the dress hurriedly and exit the closet, doing your best to maintain some sort of neutrality in your expression. "Flash is my friend. He said he that he kinda likes me and it seemed like it would be nice to go out with him," you say, "Whats wrong with that, Peter?"

Peter looks like he's been accused. Your tone wasn't as calm as intended, so it's no surprise.

"Nothing!" He responds, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture, "It's just- it's weird, isn't it?"

It feels like the air has been sucked out of your room. Your ears ring. In the back of your head, you know-- you know he only means it's weird because it's Flash you're about to go out with. But you're being faced with a conversation you didn't want, forced to acknowledge that you were never going to just find a person who makes you laugh and be able to just get the hell over Peter, and what comes out reflects the hurt feelings that are eating at you in the moment.

"Weird?" You demand, "Is it really so goddamn weird that someone could have feelings for me, Peter? Just because you don't-!"

Anger and hurt clouds your brain and you lose your train of thought entirely, breaking off in an involuntary scoff. You snatch your shoes off the floor and your apartment keys off the dresser. It isn't until you've stalked over to the nightstand to grab your phone that you continue.

"I'm leaving. I'm going on that date with Flash and I'm going to enjoy myself. Lock the door on your way out."

Peter's still on the bed, unmoved. He looks more startled than he's ever been by something you've said, and then even more so when you toss the apartment keys in his direction.

When you storm out of your own home, shoes still clutched in your hand, you try desperately to wipe from your mind the image of the shocked look on your best friend's face.

The date is nice.

Like, actually, genuinely nice.

Flash happens to arrive at your building just in time to find you gazing hard into the glass of the lobby. You're swiping frustratedly at the mascara that has run with the few angry tears you couldn't prevent. You manage to play the makeup off as no big deal, but his eyes drift immediately to your bare feet and the shoes clutched in your left hand. There's no good explanation for being shoeless on a New York City street.

"Do I want to ask?" He questions, looking kinda grossed out and at least moderately concerned.

"Please don't," you answer.

He opens the car door for you like you haven't already ruined your chances of impressing him, and you can't help but marvel at how different he is from the Flash of two years ago, who would most definitely have gotten back in his car and sped off.

The drive is long and Flash won't tell you what the destination is. You pass the time with chatter, not all that different from what you'd probably be exchanging in study hall. The convertible's roof is down, which makes it difficult not to look up for a hint of red and blue passing by, but Flash stares up openly for his idol when the car is stopped.

You don't think Spider-Man will be out tonight.

After a while, you cross the Brooklyn Bridge. Flash hands the keys over to the valet of the restaurant and helps you out of the car. He makes a joke about how your shoes better be on, but you barely hear.

"Flash, really?"

"What?"

The entrance to the restaurant is beautiful, lit with warm-colored string lights and surrounded by luscious greenery. You recognize the name on the sign, hand-painted in green; your parents had come here for their 25th anniversary a while back.

"This place is really fucking expensive," you say, and suddenly become very aware of the fact that you hadn't brought your wallet.

"I like the side dishes here," he says, like the scalloped potatoes wouldn’t cost a normal person half a fridge of groceries.

"You're nuts."

Flash buttons the top two buttons of his plaid suit jacket and takes your hand. Your stomach flips. From nerves or guilt, you're not sure. It's probably both.

"Do you have a reservation?" Asks the Maître D' when you enter.

You're prepared to have to leave, figuring that a spot at a swanky place like this would need to be reserved months in advance, but Flash pulls out his license to show to the man.

"Yes we do. 6:30, under the name Eugene Thompson."

"This way then, Mr. Thompson."

Your table next to the window overlooks the East River. The dining room has already begun to fill with the dinner rush and the little band in the corner is playing a sweet-sounding song. The menu is astronomically expensive, but Flash urges you to get whatever you want. You settle for the cheapest chicken dish on the menu and take to watching the boats pass beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. Flash orders a meat and cheese plate to start, unsurprisingly, and arranges combinations on bread and crackers for you to try.

It's more fun than you ever expected it to be, honestly. You'd been prepared for Flash to be a bit much after having agreed to let him choose the date, but he's just trying to make sure you enjoy yourself. He makes jokes and laughs at your own. Refills your drink from the water flute before you've even noticed you've gotten low. Offers you a taste of his meal. You're distracted, Peter no longer at the forefront of your mind.

With Flash, it's easy.

"I'll be honest, Eugene," you start, teasingly, and giggle at Flash's fake-annoyed attempt to jokingly swat at the side of your head, "This is. . . This is really, really nice. My wig is sufficiently snatched."

He busts out laughing, earning a look from those at nearby tables. After a few moments, he quiets and takes to smiling down at his steak.

His smile softens into something a bit awkward, maybe somewhat unsure, when he says, “Can I ask you something?”

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat. When is that question ever a good sign? “I- uh, yeah. Sure. What’s up?”

“What’s up with you and Parker?”

When you meet Flash’s eye, he doesn’t appear accusatory. He doesn’t even seem upset. More than anything, you’d say he looks confused. You, however, can feel heat rising aggressively to your cheeks.

You feel guilty again.

“Peter? What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly in response and sets down his fork. “Oh, come on now. You like him right? Since like, middle school.”

You know you’ve never really actively tried to hide it from anyone, but having it said aloud like that is jarring. It’s embarrassing. You wonder why Flash wants to talk about this, of all things, when your date had actually been going pretty darn well. But you decide to be honest, since fooling him is unrealistic.

“A while, yeah.”

“Then why are you on a date with me right now?” Flash questions.

“You. . . you asked me out?” You answer confusedly.

He passes a hand through his hair a bit agitatedly. You hope he isn’t annoyed with you, but you aren’t sure what he’s expecting you to say.

“I mean,” he clarifies, a laugh escaping his lips, “Why the hell aren’t you dating him? It’s been years already. Did you guys decide that you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship? What’s up?”

It seems that your brain is exclusively capable of performing the sound of a record scratch on repeat. You have no idea how to respond to anything Flash has just said. None of it makes sense. Peter doesn’t like you. He never has. If Flash has paid enough attention to notice how much you like your best friend, surely he should have noticed that your affection is definitely not returned.

You don't want to think about it. You don't want a spark of hope, only for it to be stomped on. Today's events alone have been proof enough that Peter doesn't like you.

"Why did you ask me out if you knew I like Peter?" You question, staring down at your half-eaten chicken parmesan.

"Why did you agree if you like Peter?"

You can feel him looking at you. When you decide to meet his eye, you're scared to see the hurt that's in them.

It's not there.

"You were hoping to get over him, right?" Flash asks, half a smile on his face, "I was hoping you would, too."

He takes your hand for the first time since you entered the restaurant, and you realize that if anything, he maybe kind of gets it.

“Peter doesn’t have feelings for me,” you manage to say, after several long moments of silence have passed.

“Dude, Parker’s in love with you.”

Considering everything, the ride home isn't nearly as awkward as it could have been.

Flash parks a little ways down the street from your building. He doesn't get up to help you out of the car like he had before. You can't really hold that against him.

"Sorry about all this," you say, guilt still swirling low in your gut, after you've shut the passenger side door.

He side eyes you when he says, "Don't flatter yourself, honey, I'll get over it," and grins, "Go tell Parker that I will actually straight up call my lawyers if he fucks this up now that I've laid all this shit out for him."

With that, he waves his hand once and then pulls away from the curb.

Thanks Eugene, is the text you send him during the walk home.

He responds with selfie of him flipping off the camera, and things are just about as close to normal between you as you figure they can be, for now. It's with a laugh that you send one back, shoes once again clutched in your flipping-off hand as you knock on the door to your apartment and wait for your parents to let you in.

Peter opens the door.

Your smile freezes in its place and then falls. His gaze averts quickly to the floor, like he's just done something wrong. You aren't sure what to say to him. "You're still here," you settle on pointing out, eventually.

"How'd it go?" He asks, skipping over the part where he explains the fact that he's still in your apartment.

He looks very much like he doesn't want to hear the answer, but also like he's trying to sound enthusiastic for you. Your heart aches. It's been hours since you'd left, and he's been sitting here marinating in the fight. Meanwhile, while you were fine dining with a friend who turned out to be way better of a friend than you'd thought he was.

"We enjoyed ourselves," you admit.

"Oh," he responds, voice a bit shaky, "That's good. I mean- It's great. That's really great. I'm glad. I'm happy for you."

"Hey, Peter?"

"Yeah?"

Your throat wants to close when you look into his eyes, but you press on.

"Are you in love with me?"

". . .Yeah."

Despite the fact that you grasp the front of his shirt in your fist when you lean in to kiss him, it's neither hurried nor forceful. It's a response, and an assurance. You pull back enough to see his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, then kiss him a second time, just a peck.

He leans his forehead against yours, sighing in relief. The tension that he must have been holding in his body releases, and you feel his stance soften with your hand still against his chest.

"I should have told you," he murmurs, reaching up to cup your jaw.

You can't help but crack a smile. "Yeah, Pete. Flash had to tell me. On our date."

"That's so awkward."

You laugh. "You're tellin' me."

He leans away from you when he exclaims, suppressing his laughter, "Hey, you didn't tell me, either!"

"Oh my god, Peter," you gush, "Yes I did! Over a year ago!"

His smile falls like he's just had the air knocked out of him. "You what?"

"Oh my god," you repeat, shaking your head in disbelief, "oh my god."

Peter falls into a slew of apologies, but you're starting to laugh, and they start to die on his lips just ask quickly as they had begun to form. You pull him forward by his shirt once more and kiss him in the doorway, revelling in the ridiculousness of it all.

"I'm in love with you too," you sigh.

If his delighted smile weren't already enough, the kiss that follows more than makes up for it.

Tag list

@undiadeestos

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parkerxreader #peter parker reader insert #peter parker self insert #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fic #marvel fanfiction #flash thompson #flash thompson x reader

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morbid-n-macabre · 5 years

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This case is very reminiscent of a 70's horror movie. It's interesting, to say the least!

Toledo, Ohio-

Father Gerald Robinson was a Catholic priest who tended to the sick and dying at Mercy Hospital, meeting their spiritual needs in times when a priest is needed most. Or, that's what he was supposed to be doing; today many believe that Father Robinson may have been hiding a dark side.

So, we will begin our story on Saturday, April 5th of 1980; it was Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. It's fair to say that this holiday is a big deal for most Christians, and that's especially true for Catholics. When an unsuspecting Sister Phyllis Ann came to help decorate the hospital chapel for the upcoming festivities, she received the shock of her life: the much respected 71 year old Sister Margaret Ann Pahl's corpse was discovered laying in a pool of blood.

So, Sister Margaret had devoted her entire life to her faith and helping others. She had taken her vows as a teenager, and later became a registered nurse who did her best to serve those around her. It's said that, while caring, the sister could be difficult to please; she was a perfectionist who expected everyone to give their 100% all the time, just as she always had.

Sister Margaret had been tortured, stabbed dozens of times, and strangled. This killer had placed an altar cloth over the nun and stabbed her 9 times in the chest; together these particular wounds made the shape of an upside down (inverted) cross. Then the attacker had stabbed her over and over again in the face and neck; all together the sister sufferered 31 stab wounds, to be precise. It appeared that at some point Sister Margaret had been given her last rites, except her head had been anointed with her own blood instead of oil! Still, the worst part may have been the sexual assault, it is rumored that she'd been violated with a crucifix. Think of how awful this must've been for Sister Margaret, who had joined the convent at the tender age of 19; it's safe to assume that she had been a virgin. At some point Sister Margaret was taken to a special room called the sacristy; this is the place in which the Holy Eucharist is kept in the days prior to Easter Sunday. Considering Catholics believe that the Eucharist is the embodiment of Christ, it's likely this killer believed he was killing the good sister in the physical presence of her savior. Another thing which should be noted: this particular room would've been kept shut, likely even locked in the days before the holiday; this killer knew what he was doing. In this sacred room the killer posed Sister Margaret with her arms and legs straight; the poor nun's underwear had been pulled all the way down, and her dress pulled way up. It was as if the murderer had tried his best not only to kill this woman, but to utterly destroy her; it's possible he believed he was sending her soul to the lake of fire. But who in the hell would do this to a helpless elderly nun, in a hospital chapel, on the day before Easter?

Back to Father Gerald Robinson again. It quickly came to light that the Father and Sister hadn't exactly gotten along, which had been no secret around the hospital. Matter of fact, a day or so before the murder these two had had a tiff in front of many witnesses. Father Robinson had significantly shortened a Mass, which had thoroughly ticked the "old school" nun off so badly that she challenged his authority, right there in front of God and everybody! Father Robinson, who quickly became investigators best suspect, was brought in and questioned. A sharp letter opener shaped as a sword was found among the priest's belongings, and it appeared to have blood up underneath it. Police took this into evidence, but nothing ever came of any of this at the time; the priest was simply reassigned elsewhere, the case went cold, and life went on.

The horrific murder of Sister Margaret may still be considered unsolved today if not for a seemingly rather outlandish story. In 2003 an unnamed woman filed a lawsuit claiming that she'd recently recalled some trauma from her childhood. She remembered having been placed in a coffin filled with cockroaches, penetrated with a snake, forced to consume a human eyeball, and that she witnessed not only the torture of animals but also the murder of a toddler. Really gruesome stuff. The 41 year old claimed that she'd experienced all of this and more in various basements at the hands of Catholic priests; but not just any old priest stuck out in her mind, Father Robinson had been one of her abusers! The accuser now thought it only fair that the church pay for her therapy bill, a total of $50,000. A few other women came forward, and they claimed to have also experienced similar abuse; the matter was investigated but, considering how much time had passed, nothing ever came of this. Well, nothing except it brought the cold case of Sister Margaret front and center once again to a new batch of investigators.

Come to find out, the original investigation had been suspect from the beginning. The initial interrogation of Father Robinson had been cut short by Deputy Police Chief Ray Vetter, a devout Catholic. Reports which had been ordered turned in to Vetter had been "lost"; other investigators who had worked the case remember being outraged by the facade, and many were still fuming over it all of these years later! Finally given the chance to properly investigate this murder, police spoke to multiple witnesses who could place the priest at the scene of the crime, and Sister Margaret's corpse was exhumed. It was determined with a decent amount of certainty that the letter opener found among the priest's possessions had been the murder weapon, and police were finally able to arrest him.

During trial the prosecution claimed it would've been unlikely that anyone besides a priest, nun, or a seminarian would have possessed the knowledge to pull commit this crime. Also the woman with the repressed memories was brought up, it appears that she may have even testified against the priest. Buzz words/phrases such as "human sacrifice", "satanic cult", and "Satanic Ritual Abuse" were used; it was as if the 80's called and wanted their Satanic Panic back - it was very reminiscent of what happened with the McMartin Preschool. Anyways, on May 11th of 2006 a jury found Father Robinson guilty of murder; the priest was sent off to prison for a 15 years to life sentence.

Seems pretty open and shut, right? Well, not quite; many were not satisfied with the verdict. While much of the evidence, be it circumstantial, does point directly at Father Robinson, it appears that the prosecution withheld some important things from the jury. This included unknown male DNA found beneath the Nun's fingernails, and a report written by a FBI trained profiler named Dr. Harley Stock. According to this report, an experienced killer such as Coral Eugene Watts was likely to be the culprit, probably not a priest with an axe to grind. DNA tests were run on multiple suspects, including another priest and the aforementioned serial killer, but none were a match. When you add the missing, lost, and/or destroyed evidence, many believe that the priest caught an unfair shake; plus a lot of people don't believe that repressed memories should've been heard. The prosecutor has been accused of misconduct, and there was even some talk of granting the priest a new trial.

Father Robinson didn't last too long behind bars, he passed away on the 4th of July in 2014; a heart attack took him out at the age of 76. He received a priest's funeral service in which more than 200 people, including dozens of nuns, were in attendance. While some are still trying to clear the priest's tarnished reputation to this very day, others are adamant that he was guilty of killing Sister Margaret. It's all up for debate.

Do you think that repressed memories should be permitted at trial? Do you think the priest was guilty, innocent, or maybe he had a partner in crime?

To my Satanic Followers,

Before I am bombarded with comments and messages from you fine folks, please understand that I have researched your beliefs as I find all religions fascinating. I am very much aware that the Satanism does not call for human (be it adult or child) sacrifice, nor does it condone mistreatment of a child. I get it, I'm just telling you about this particular case. I'm very much Christian, but I do not judge anyone on their beliefs.

#Catholic #religion #church #true crime #cold case #police corruption #murder #occult #crime story #blogger

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trans-rite · 5 years

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The Transgender Rite of Ancestor Elevation: 2018 List of Names

Below the cut, a list of names, organized by country, date of passing, and how they died (people have mixed feelings about the latter, we understand). Some include age and other notes as well, but that’s not consistent across the names. This year we made an effort to seek out information about the lives of our beloved dead, where reported, and quotes from loved ones.

Link to a shareable google document with photos

Christa Leigh Steele-Knudslien, United States

As of mid-October 2018, 22 homicides of trans Americans have been reported. The first known victim was Christa Leigh Steele-Knudslien, 42, of North Adams, Mass. The founder of the Miss Trans America and Miss Trans New England pageants, she was stabbed to death at her home January 5. Her husband, Mark S. Steele-Knudslien, 47, has been charged with her murder. He turned himself in to police the same night, saying he had done "something very bad," and describing details of the crime, but he pleaded not guilty the following week in Northern Berkshire District Court. He is awaiting trial.

Christa, 42, was a flamboyant and beloved transgender activist, founder of the Miss Trans New England beauty pageant and cofounder of the New England Trans United Pride March and Rally. She believed that being trans was something to celebrate. She was forever cajoling friends to try the higher heels, the shorter dress — “Show your legs, hon!” Her joy seemed boundless.

When Halloween came, Christa struck up a friendly decorating contest with Jennifer Serre, who lives across the street. They one-upped each other, Serre said, adding lights and signs and ghouls until Christa’s yard sported a guillotine, a fortune teller, a ghost, a clown, a girl hanging from a tree, a man dressed in black carrying a shovel, and a graveyard.

Viccky Gutierrez, United States

Viccky Gutierrez, 33, was stabbed to death at her home in Los Angeles January 10. Firefighters were called to a fire at the building early that day and discovered her body. Gutierrez, an immigrant from Honduras, was described as "a beautiful soul who was really nice to everyone and would offer any type of support when someone would need it" by friends who set up a crowdfunding page to raise money for funeral expenses. She was active in the L.A. trans community, working with the Los Angeles LGBT Center on Transgender Day of Remembrance events. A few days after her death, Los Angeles police arrested Kevyn Ramirez, 29. Police said he admitted to stabbing Gutierrez and setting the fire. He is charged with murder during the commission of an attempted robbery, plus two counts of arson, while police continue to try to determine his motive and whether the murder was a hate crime.

Viccky was a young trans Latina woman from Honduras, and a member of TransLatin@ Coalition’s Los Angeles organization. She often joined the team for their daily lunches, provided for free to anyone in need. Friends refer to her as “the nicest girl in the world,” whose “smile would give anyone comfort,” and “an inspiration for many of us.”

Zakaria Fry, United States

Zakaria Fry, 28, went missing from her home in Albuquerque, N.M., January 18, along with her housemate, Eugene Carroll Ray, 70. Their bodies were found February 19 in trash bins in a rural part of New Mexico; both had died of blunt force trauma to the head and face, police said. It is not clear exactly when they were killed. Albuquerque police arrested Charles Anthony Spiess, 27, who is also known by the name James Knight, February 27, and the next day he was charged with the murder of both Fry and Ray, along with a charge of tampering with evidence. Police said he may have lived with the victims for a time. “It's a massive case and there's a lot of connections there. But the main thing is we’re asking the public if they ever saw these three together,” Albuquerque Police Department public information officer Simon Drobik told the Albuquerque Journal. Friends of Fry's described her lovingly. “You were such a fun and positive person despite all the challenges you faced in life,” Tara Yvonne wrote on Facebook. “You were a brave, strong and inspirational woman. Your spirit lives on and you are missed by many. May you rest in peace.”

Celine Walker, United States

Celine Walker, 36, was found shot to death in a hotel room in Jacksonville, Fla., February 4. A friend, Naomi Michaels, wrote on Facebook that Walker “lived a low key life where she did whatever needed to be done in order for her to survive” and “was not a pageant girl” or a clubgoer. The Jacksonville Sheriff's Office misgendered and deadnamed her when reporting her death, with officials saying they do not identify people as transgender. Activists have called for a change in the policy, which may have delayed the investigation of the crime. No one has been arrested for her murder yet, and police have revealed no details of their investigation. Some friends suspect her murder was an anti-trans hate crime.

“Celine was not a pageant girl. She didn’t even enjoy going to gay clubs or events. She lived a low key life where she did whatever needed to be done in order for her to survive.”

Tonya Harvey, United States

Tonya Harvey, 35, was fatally shot on a dead-end street in Buffalo, N.Y., February 6. Social media posts by friends described Harvey, who sometimes went by the nickname “Kita,” as “sweet and loving” and “the black Cameron Diaz.” Police and the Erie County District Attorney's office are continuing to investigate her murder, including the possibility that it was a hate crime. Activists pointed out the widespread violence against trans people. “There is a very real epidemic of violence targeting the transgender community, particularly those who live at the intersection of transphobia, racism, and misogyny,” Damian Mordecai, executive director of the Pride Center of Western New York, told The Buffalo News.

Phylicia Mitchell, United States

Phylicia Mitchell, 45, died February 23 after being shot in the chest outside her home in Cleveland. She and partner Shane Mitchell had been together for about 30 years, ever since Phylicia fled her less-than-accepting family in Pittsburgh. They were not legally married, but they had an unofficial ceremony last May in which she took his last name. Phylicia earned a high school equivalency diploma and worked as a hairstylist, and Shane did odd jobs. Shane said their relationship endured and even became stronger through hard times, including periods of homelessness. “I miss her tremendously,” he told Cleveland's Plain Dealer. “That’s my soul mate. We went together everywhere. We did everything together. We always held hands on the bus. Years ago people didn’t respect that, but they do now.” In April, Cleveland police issued a warrant for the arrest of Gary Lamar Sanders, 36, in connection with Mitchell's death. He was placed on Ohio's Most Wanted List and was finally apprehendedby the U.S. Marshals Service in July in West Virginia, where he had been living for more than a month. He is charged with aggravated murder.

She will be remembered for her devotion to hair styling and being a loving and caring partner and friend, despite battling drug addiction for most of her life, her longtime partner said. "Everyone loved her," Mitchell said. "My nieces and nephews opened up to her so much. She was just so funny and kind."

Amia Tyrae Berryman, United States

Amia Tyrae Berryman, 28, was found shot to death at the Shades Motel in Baton Rouge, La., early in the morning of March 26. Police so far have no suspects and are continuing to investigate. Berryman's family declined to speak to local media.

Amia worked in home health care in Baton Rouge. A friend was quoted as saying “She didn’t have much support [from] family...so she made family with her peers in the LGBT community of Baton Rouge.” Another friend said, “Amia Tyrae R.I.P. you were such a sweet person with a big heart...rest well my friend.”

Sasha Wall, United States

Sasha Wall, 29, was found shot to death in her car along a rural road in Chesterfield County, S.C., the morning of April 1. She had been shot several times in the neck and shoulder. Police believe she knew her killer and that her death was likely the result of a domestic dispute. Wall, who lived in a mobile home near Pageland, S.C., was remembered fondly by friends on social media. On Facebook, Donovan Dunlap recalled taking photos of her, saying, “You stayed ready for the camera. I will miss you my beautiful sister. I cannot sleep. I hope they find who did this.”

Carla Patricia Flores-Pavon, United States

Carla Patricia Flores-Pavon was strangled to death in her Dallas apartment May 9. Police found her unconscious about 4 p.m. at her apartment, Dallas TV station KTVT reports. She was pronounced dead at a local hospital. A witness reportedly saw a man fleeing the scene. Dallas police said they do not believe her death was a hate crime. The are some discrepancies in the details about Flores-Pavon. KTVT listed her age as 26, but the Dallas Voice gave it as 18. Also, while police spelled her first name as Carla, her Facebook page spelled it Karla.“You were a good person,” her friend Gia York Herrera wrote on Facebook, also noting that the loss “hurts so much.” (This is a translation; the original post was in Spanish.) York Herrera added, “God give comfort to your family and friends” and “I send you a hug and a kiss as always.” Police arrested a suspect in Flores-Pavon’s murder, Jimmy Eugene Johnson II, 24, near Huntsville, Texas, May 17. Johnson, who was arrested during a traffic stop, had items from Flores-Pavon’s apartment in his car, so police believe his motive was robbery and not anti-transgender bias. He is charged with murder.

Unknown transgender woman, United States

Officers pulled what they said was the body of a black, transgender woman, approximately 5’3” and 130 pounds, from a river in Dallas on May 15th, 2018. The unidentified victim was wearing a black shirt and black scrub pants.

Nino Fortson, United States

Nino Fortson, a 36-year-old transgender man, was shot to death in Atlanta May 13. Fortson was involved in an argument with two men and two women on the street, The Atlanta Jounral-Constitution reports. A witness said he fired a small gun into the air but then walked away. But a few minutes later, the witness heard more gunshots and then saw him lying on the ground, as one of the other people involved in the dispute limped away. Fortson died shortly afterward at Grady Memorial Hospital. Initial media reports misgendered Fortson.

Many in Atlanta’s queer community learned of the death through a Facebook post on the profile of Kamaro Blahnik, father of the House of Blahnik, who referred to Fortson as “my son” and used both she/her and he/him pronouns to refer to Fortson. Blahnik said that Fortson was known for walking the “Butch Realness” category at balls.

Gigi Pierce, United States

Gigi Pierce, 28, was shot to death in Portland, Ore., the night of May 21. She was from Boise, Idaho, and it wasn't clear how long she had been in Portland. Sophia Grace Adler, 33, has been arrested and charged with Pierce's murder; she has pleaded not guilty. Witnesses and police said there had been an altercation between the two prior to the shooting. A friend remembered Pierce as someone “full of life, always trying to help somebody.”

Her friends recall her as vivacious and enthusiastic. But they also say she struggled with drug abuse and homelessness, living a difficult life that came to a sudden end last week.

"I don't know what demons she was trying to run away from, but she spent her entire life running," says her close friend and former boyfriend Jason Johnson, who knew Eugene-Pierce for more than a decade. "And it was a beautiful run filled with glitter and cocktails." "Gigi was a performer through and through," her friend Dallas Jackson Falls said in a statement last week. "Life was her stage, and those fortunate enough to know her were her audience. Granted, you never knew whether you were getting a drama, comedy or even, in some moments, an action-filled tragedy. That was the thing about her, you just never knew what you were going to get." Eugene-Pierce grew up in Boise, Idaho. Her sister, Nicole Emery, says Eugene-Pierce "treated my sister [Meghann] and I like princesses" and "never stood still."

Antash’a-English, United States

Antash’a English, 38, was shot to death in Jacksonville, Fla., June 1. On a city street, she was shot in the abdomen by someone firing from a vehicle. She died at a local hospital. “She was an unapologetic, bold, and loyal person,” friend Taliyah Smith told Firs Coast News, a program of stations WTLV and WJXX. English had won several pageants and performed regularly at local nightclub InCahoots. Police are continuing to investigate her murder.

On her Facebook page, English described herself as “a very independent transgendered woman ... who thrive[s] on being the best person I can be.” In May, just weeks before her death, English had shared a photo of herself with the caption, “I will no longer be a victim of discrimination. # Trans rights.”

Diamond Stephens, United States

Diamond Stephens, 39, was shot to death June 18 while driving home. She was shot in the back of the head, causing her van to crash into a house. She was not identified as transgender until a month later because police and local news outlets misgendered and deadnamed her. Police, who have yet to identify a suspect, say there may have been others in the car with her. Her family is devastated. “We are hurting really bad,” Stephens’s cousin Georgia Brown told Mississippi TV station WTOK. “I don’t really know what words to say other than we need God to help us and give us strength to make it through this situation and pray to God that whoever did this is found.”

Catalina Christina James, United States

Catalina Christina James was the third transgender woman murdered in Jacksonville this year, leading some to suspect a serial killer is at work. James, from Bishopville, S.C., was shot to death outside a Quality Inn and Suites motel June 24. The Jacksonville Sheriff's Office continued its practice of not using trans victims' preferred names. James's mother described her to First Coast News as the life of the party, with a love of travel and dancing.

Keisha Wells, United States

Keisha Wells, 58, was found dead in the parking lot of an apartment complex June 24 in Cleveland, the second trans woman murdered in the city this year. She had suffered a gunshot wound to the abdomen. Her best friend, Sheila Jones, described her to the Plain Dealer as "a tough cookie" but "the nicest person ever." Wells loved dressing up and frequenting nightclubs, Jones added. "(She) always loved the most expensive high heels and stilettos, the hats and (her) expensive sunglasses.”

Wells' aunt, Regina Spicer, said Wells loved to make everyone around her laugh. She said Wells, who family members referred to as "Pokey" and who was referred to by family as both Keisha and her birth name Maurice, also spoiled the dozen or so nieces and nephews. "Pokey was funny," Spicer said. "Pokey liked laughing and telling funny stories about people. But when (she) loved you and cared about you, (she) loved you."

Sasha Garden, United States

Sasha Garden, 27, was found dead at an Orlando apartment complex July 19.

Garden, an advocate for transgender women and outreach coordinator for the HIV and AIDS organization Miracle of Love, was a sex worker saving money to transition and become a hairstylist. Garden was known for an outgoing spirit. "She was a firecracker – very outspoken," said Montrese Williams, who houses transgender women involved in sex work, providing free condoms, water bottles, and HIV testing. "She didn’t hold her tongue for anyone or anybody. Her womanhood was one of those things she stood up for. She didn’t tolerate any disrespect at all."

“There’s a little bit of Sasha in all of us here today,” mourner Richard Sizemore said, according to the Sentinel. “Her adventure in this realm may be over ... but I have faith that on the next plane, she is somewhere where she’s perfect — and everybody knows it.”

Dejanay Stanton, United States

Dejanay Stanton, 24, was shot to death early in the morning of August 30 on the south side of Chicago. She was found in an alley, with a gunshot wound to her head, and pronounced dead at a nearby hospital. Police initially did not know her name and identified her as "Jane Doe," but friends who saw her photo on social media confirmed her identity as Dejanay Stanton.

“She was so sweet. Every time you saw her she had a smile on her face," said LaSaia Wade, executive director of Brave Space Alliance. “She was just trying to live her best life as a young girl.” Police have yet to make an arrest but are continuing to investigate.

The first thing you noticed about Dejanay Stanton is her hair. In one video, it was styled pin-straight and dark brown, though the sunlight teased it out to a golden sheen. As she twirled around on the grass, it cascaded past her hips and swished freely in the wind, almost like it had a life of its own. Other times, it would be crimped or in soft curls, in a bob with blonde tips or, toward the end of her life, dyed scarlet. “Everyone, no matter what their gender or sexuality, knew her,” Jones, 25, said. “She was loved and never did nothing to nobody. So it was a shock.”

Jones said Stanton never had a bad word to say about anyone and was a family-first person. She lived with her mother, step-dad and four siblings, and every day she told her mom she loved her. Whenever someone was short on money, she always paid for that person’s meal or drinks. “There was a sweet spirit about her,” Jones said. “Always inspirational or encouraging. She was always living life.” Stanton also loved to travel, Jones said. One of her favorite destinations was New York City, where she’d go shopping and restock her much-coveted wardrobe. “She was a girl who loved style,” Wade said. “She was trying to live her best life. It was like a breath of fresh air.”

Vontashia Bell, United States

Vontashia Bell, 18, suffered a fatal gunshot wound August 30 in Shreveport, La. She was found on the street early that morning and pronounced dead at a local hospital. Police and media misgendered her, but a Louisiana activist organization identified her correctly. Bell’s death “is a reminder of the current climate and national discourse on trans issues,” said the release from Louisiana Trans Advocates. “Dehumanizing language and actions lower the barriers to this kind of senseless violence.” The group called on city and state officials to condemn anti-trans discrimination and violence and to work against institutional racism. Police have yet to make an arrest but have asked the public for help in identifying a suspect.

Shantee Tucker, United States

Shantee Tucker, 30, was shot to death September 5 on a Philadelphia street by someone firing from inside a pickup truck. Witnesses had seen her arguing with the person in the truck just before she was shot, and police believe she knew her killer. The police also said they don't think the attack was motivated by her gender identity, but her friends and trans activists don't agree. Friends recalled Tucker, who worked in a beauty supply store, as a sincere and down-to-earth person.

Tucker had just celebrated a birthday.

London Moore, United States

London Moore, 20, was found shot to death September 8 in North Port, Fla. Her car was found the next day at a different location. Police said the crime was an isolated incident and that they believe she knew her killer, who remains at large.

On September 1, Moore posted on her Facebook that she was “going to give this whole love thing one more chance.”

“Wish me luck,” she added.

Ms Columbia, United States

Residents of Queens are reacting with shock and grief at the news that Miss Colombia, a colorfully attired Jackson Heights personality who was a fixture at LGBTQ Pride celebrations and other gatherings, was found dead in the waters off Jacob Riis Park in the early morning hours of October 4. Miss Colombia, aka Osvaldo Gomez, preferred male pronouns and was an attorney in his native Medellín, Colombia, arriving in the US in the 1970s fleeing persecution in his homeland, he stated in 2015 in the video documentary series “No Your City.” He was 64. At an evening vigil on October 5 in Jackson Heights, out gay City Councilmember Daniel Dromm of Jackson Height said Miss Colombia “was an iconic figure in the LGBT community and beyond. She was beloved by all who saw her in the streets, at parades, and in the neighborhood wearing her colorful outfits and a bird on her shoulder. Her cheerfulness and ability to bring a smile to the faces of all who met her will be missed by all New Yorkers. I remember marching with Miss Colombia at the first Queens Pride Parade and at other parades across the city, including the India Day Parade and the Chinese New Year Parade, among others. While life did not always treat Miss Colombia with all the respect she was due, New Yorkers will remember Miss Colombia as a hero to everyone. May Miss Colombia rest in peace.”

Nikki Janelle Enriquez, United States

Nikki Janelle Enriquez, 28, of Laredo, Texas, was found dead near Interstate 35 in south Texas September 15. She has been shot in the head. Juan David Ortiz, 35, an intelligence supervisor for the U.S. Border Patrol, is charged with murdering Enriquez and three other women. Police and prosecutors are calling the murders a serial killing spree in which Ortiz singled out sex workers. They have not ruled out the possibility that there are other victims. Enriquez, so far the only known transgender victim, was described by family members as “very outgoing,” “always smiling,” and “loved by the gay community.”

Ciara Minaj Carter Frazier, United States

Ciara Minaj Carter Frazier, 31, was stabbed to death in Chicago the night of October 3. She was found in the backyard of an abandoned house and pronounced dead at the scenc. Police believe her killer was a man she had been arguing with at the house, but they have yet to apprehend him. Her death came just over a month after the fatal shooting of transgender Chicagoan Deejay Stanton. “It feels like we are being targeted,” LaSaia Wade, executive director of Chicago trans organization Brave Space Alliance, told the Chicago Sun-Times. She knew Frazier through the local ball scene. “I’m frustrated and upset with the lack of cases turning around,” she continued. “There is a lack of [concern for] our safety from police.”

Jessie Sumlar, United States

On July 19, 30-year-old Jessie Sumlar was found stabbed to death in Jacksonville, Florida. According to loved ones, Sumlar regularly performed in drag and identified as queer. A friend writes: “I will miss you so much! I looked forward to seeing your beautiful smile! You were such a kind and thoughtful person. Rest with Jesus my beautiful Jessie! Youve impacted more lives with smiles and good purpose than you know. Ill never forget your warm touches on my shoulder and soft voice and how you ALWAYS spoke to everybody when you entered the room.”

Roxsana Hernandez, United States

Roxsana Hernandez died while in the custody of U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement after fleeing violence and discrimination in Honduras.

Hernandez recently petitioned for asylum after traveling as part of a caravan of migrants fleeing violence in Central America.

Roxana Hernández reportedly died from HIV-related complications following an alleged five-day detention in what’s known by immigrant rights groups as the “ice box” – Ice detention facilities notorious for their freezing temperatures.

Four months before joining the caravan, Hernandez said, she was walking home when MS-13 gang members started screaming "We don't want you in this neighborhood, you fucking faggot" at her before gang-raping her. "Four of them raped me and as a result I got HIV," Hernandez told BuzzFeed News. "Trans people in my neighborhood are killed and chopped into pieces, then dumped inside potato bags." Standing in front of a church in Puebla, Mexico, playing with a silver cross around her neck, Hernandez said that gangs had continued to threaten her and told her she had to leave the area where she lived in Honduras. "I didn't want to come to Mexico — I wanted to stay in Honduras but I couldn't," Hernandez said. "They kill trans people in Honduras. I'm scared of that." Hernandez said she was able to put some money together to head to Guatemala. Her plan was to return to the US, from which she had previously been deported three times. She had some family in the US but said they did not accept her because she was trans. From Guatemala she went to Mexico, where she eventually linked up with the caravan of 1,200 to 1,500 migrants heading north.

Mondragón said Hernandez had been sick when she turned herself in to US border authorities but was in good spirits. "She told me she loved me. She had courage, but was nervous at the thought of entering the US again," Mondragón said. "I'll remember her as a timid, respectful person, always giving the other girls advice and sharing her food."

Vanessa Campos, 36, a trans woman working as a prostitute, was shot dead on August 17 in Paris' bois de Boulogne. She was originally from Peru and had been living in Paris for two years. The police initially referred to her as a "male transvestite".

Local media reports said Ms Campos had been attempting to prevent one of her clients from being mugged before she was fatally shot in the chest.

“Vanesa was a very soft person,” says Rincon. “She was good at listening. After the death of her father back in Peru, Vanesa took on the role of breadwinner and she was still sending money home to her family.”

“When I went back to the forest a few weeks ago for the memorial, I saw how Vanesa and her friends had tried to make it safer to work,” Rincon says. She explains that the area is dark and isolated but the women had set up battery-operated lights, brought water bottles and made a makeshift shelter so they’d have privacy with clients and avoid being arrested under French exhibitionism laws frequently used to target sex workers. “Vanesa’s friends have to keep working there, in the place where she was murdered,” Rincon says. “It's now a communal cemetery, with candles and people going there to pray.”

Four unknown women, India

Following a false rumor that transgender women were kidnapping children for sex trafficking in Hyderabad, four transgender women were attacked by a mob on May 26, 2018. One of the women died. Local police issued an "Appeal to Public" saying that the rumors of criminal involvement by transgender women were "fake" and that the public should not "take law into your hands...so that innocents won't become a victim of those rumors anymore.

Naomi Hersi, United Kingdom

Naomi Hersi, 36, was found stabbed to death at Heathrow Palace in London at 10:30 on Sunday 18 March 2018. Jesse McDonald, 24, from Hounslow, has been charged with murder. A 17-year-old girl, who cannot be named for legal reasons, was released on bail after being charged with assisting an offender.

Naomi who lived in Mill Hill, north London, was described on social media as a “tennis lover, music junkie, film and tv addict”. She was of Somali origin who had lived in the United States before returning to the UK. One neighbour said: “She was fun to be around and a real character. She was into music and tennis. She was a nice person.” Another neighbour said: “Naomi was a flamboyant, lovely fun person. I think she had problems in her life but was well liked. We are devastated to lose a friend and neighbour.”

In April, a transgender woman was shot dead in Pakistan, making her the 56th trans person to be killed in the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa region in the last three years. Sheena, who lived in the Shewa area, was allegedly attacked by a group of armed men who beat her up and then shot her dead on Sunday night.

Sheena, Pakistan

Unknown woman, Pakistan

August: Police in Peshawar, Pakistan, have arrested two suspects in the killing and dismemberment of a transgender woman, with one found carrying a shopping bag containing the victim’s body parts. The victim, identified only as Nazo, was shot to death late Thursday, and her body was then “hacked to pieces,” Radio Free Europe reports, citing an interview that Police Superintendent Cantt Waseem Riaz gave to Pakistani media.

Unknown woman, Pakistan

September: A transgender woman in Pakistan has died after being set afire by four men when she resisted sexual assault. The men had taken the woman to an isolated area in the city of Sahiwal, in the eastern part of the nation last Thursday, The Times of India reports. She fought back when they tried to assault her, and then they set her on fire. She suffered burns on 80 percent of her body and died while being transported to a hospital.

Sheila, a transgender woman and sex worker, was shot in the streets of Tepic on March 14, 2018.

Yoselyn, Mexico

Yoselyn, a transgender woman and sex worker, was found beheaded inside the room of a short stay motel in Álamo, Veracruz on April 5, 2018. She was seen with a client who left before the corpse was found.

Gretchen Alina, Mexico

Gretchen Alina, a transgender woman and drag queen show performer was strangled to death in Monterrey on April 10, 2018. She performed as Lorena Hererra.

Yamileth Quintero, Mexico

Yamileth Quintero, a transgender woman and beauty queen was shot in Culiacan after an encounter with a man she had met online, May 24, 2018.

Nataly Briyth Sánchez, Mexico

Nataly Briyth Sánchez, an undocumented sex worker originally from Honduras, was murdered during a sexual encounter on June 19, 2018 in Tapachula. The client stabbed her to death after discovering that she was transgender.[285]

Katty, Mexico

Katty, a transgender woman and sex worker was shot by an unknown man at a nightclub in Yautepec de Zaragoza on June 27, 2018.[286]\

Chanel, Mexico

Chanel, a 45 year-old transexual sex worker, was shot in the streets of Toluca, July 18, 2018.

Alaska Contreras Ponce, Mexico

Alaska Contreras Ponce, 25, a transgender beauty queen and sex worker, was found dead with her neck sliced by barbed wire after gruesome torture in Martinez de la Torre, July 25, 2018.[288]

Juan C.M., Mexico

Juan C. M., a 24 year old transgender woman and local taxi driver, was found dead in Santa Maria Atzompa on August 12, 2018. Apparently, she had a gunshot wound.

Samuel Santolli, Mexico

Samuel Santolli, a transgender woman and sex worker, was stabbed to death by her lover, a Salvadorian gang member in Tapachula, May 26, 2018.[290]

Diego Armando Sanchez Medina, Mexico

Diego Armando Sanchez Medina, 32, a transgender woman and hairdresser, was shot 28 times by armed men in Guadalajara, August 27, 2018.[291]

Arturo, Mexico

April 27th, 2018: Arturo, a trans woman, was found in the entrance to a field Villa de los Belenes neighborhood of the municipality of Zapopan .

#names #troe2018 #violence #violence tw #transmisogyny #TDOR #ancestors

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