October 2013
Across the country in South Carolina, a trial was set to begin. A twenty-year-old boy had opened fire on an elementary school. He had killed twelve children and two faculty members before his gun jammed and police apprehended him.
The shooting had occurred three years prior to the trial’s opening statement. The defense prepared to defend their client under the insanity plea—if they could prove the defendant had committed the crime in a mentally ill state of mind, he could avoid jail time and be sentenced to time in a psychiatric facility.
Jeremy had filled in Dr. Siva on his new promotion and received his professor’s typical unsupportive response before he changed the topic.
“What do you think of this case?” Dr. Siva asked Jeremy in their monthly meeting.
“Honestly, I think it’s bullshit,” Jeremy said.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Dr. Siva said matter-of-factly. “While it may seem like an easy way out, it’s really not.”
“Even if this kid is insane, he doesn’t deserve to avoid the consequences of his actions.”
“Who are you to decide?” Dr. Siva asked, sitting up stiffly in his chair.
“It’s the law—you can’t kill people. He killed kids, lots of kids. No way should he be able to get away with it.”
“Are you religious, Jeremy?”
Jeremy paused, wondering at the relevance of the question.
“Never mind,” Dr. Siva said. “The point is that there are thousands of cases of mental illness that go undiagnosed. Mental illness is frowned upon in this country. You’d be surprised how many people have been executed or are rotting in a cell that actually need medical treatment.”
“That doesn’t take back what they did.”
“Look, I’m not condoning this kid’s actions, please understand that. I got chills hearing about the scene he left behind. I feel for the families, but that doesn’t mean the shooter has a healthy mind.”
Jeremy fidgeted in his chair.
“I’d like to ask you to follow this trial. Not as an assignment, but as a chance to gain some valuable insight about a dark topic within our field of study.”
Jeremy looked at Dr. Siva, trying to wrap his mind around what he was saying.
“Keep an objective mind,” Dr. Siva said. “Put your emotions aside and keep your ears open to the facts. There will be some highly experienced psychologists testifying in defense of this young man. Pay close attention to what they say. Remember, at the end of the day our job is to help people fighting battles within themselves.”
“Okay,” Jeremy said softly. “I’ll follow it.”
“Very good. I look forward to us discussing this trial.”
Jeremy felt sick to his stomach. The thought of keeping an open mind to the horrific acts done by this monster made him doubt his future occupation.
One day I could have some loony axe murderer in my office, and I might need to defend them?
“Thank you, Dr. Siva. I look forward to it as well.”
Jeremy left his professor’s office with more questions than ever.
*****
Two weeks into the trial, Jeremy was starting to see what Dr. Siva meant. The shooter had been virtually abandoned during his adolescent years by his executive parents who were never home. Having minimal human interaction at home led to social anxiety in the outside world, mainly at school.
He had no friends in high school, never went on dates, to dances, or to football games. He hid in the back of the classroom and avoided group discussions.
With no one to turn to, he started to research depression, looking for any means of coping with the stress that had built up over years as an outcast. By his senior year of high school he had started sneaking his mother’s antidepressants only to find his depression worsen after using them.
Having suicidal thoughts, he snuck his dad’s gun from its hiding place. The investigation found that he had compiled a list of some of the country’s most notorious mass shootings. He obsessed over each shooting, taking notes on what he liked and didn’t like. After a couple months of research, the shooter made his plan of attack and carried it out.
“In a matter of four months, this kid went from a loner high school student to a notorious monster,” Dr. Siva said. “But why? That’s what we need to find out. Obviously the absence of parental guidance attributed, but why did he decide that this would be a good idea? Was it an event at school? Did he have a fight with his parents? There’s always a turning point.
“Thousands of mentally ill people are perfectly fine and living normal lives. It takes something to trigger such a drastic expression of rage. But regardless, that boy needs serious mental assistance. Until we stop putting mentally ill people behind bars and giving them the death penalty, these kinds of stories will continue.”
“I honestly can’t say I disagree,” Jeremy said. “If anyone could have sat down with this kid, they would’ve been able to see he was suffering.”
Dr. Siva sat in a meditative silence, hands folded below his chin.
“I want to challenge you, Jeremy,” Dr. Siva said. “Start thinking of ways to address this issue.”
“How?” Jeremy asked, stiffening in his chair.
“Change society’s way of thinking. That’s the challenge. Convince a jury to see a mass murderer as a victim of undiagnosed medical issues instead of as a monster.”
“I don’t know, Dr. Siva. Sounds like a fool’s mission. People are so closed-minded nowadays. Everyone believes what they believe.”
“You’d be surprised,” Dr. Siva replied. “Just food for thought. I don’t expect anyone to save the world over night, just wanted to plant the seed.”
“Fair enough. This trial—I’m glad you asked me to follow it. I’m finding myself slightly obsessed with the justice system.”
“Well, that’s a conversation for another day. Keep up with the trial, and we’ll plan on catching up soon.”
Jeremy thanked him, wished him a happy weekend, and exited the doctor’s office.
Their conversation weighed on his mind for the remainder of the night. He tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake the thought of all the mentally ill people that had been executed in the past.
If I could just get people to understand life from these people’s point of view, maybe there would be more understanding.
He thought back to a book he had read in high school called Black Like Me. It was an account of a white man that had gone undercover as a black man in the South during the 1960s. He published his experience to show the world how differently black people were treated. He shed a light on the nastiness of society, and people hated it. The author had to move his family to Mexico to flee the death threats.
I need to expose this for the world to see. Maybe I can somehow infiltrate the system, show what’s really going on, and report my findings.
Jeremy tried to relax his rambling thoughts, but now that his brain had hold of the idea it wouldn’t let go.
I need to get into a psychiatric hospital. I could just admit myself, tell them I’m hearing voices in my head.
He thought it over, dismissed the thought.
It’s not the knowingly mentally ill that are the problem. It’s the ones who are undiagnosed.
A botched suicide attempt?
He remembered one of his past professors dismissing failed suicide attempts. “If you truly want to end your life, then you will. There’s no gray area.”
I have to go to court. I have to be sent to the hospital. Sentenced to the hospital.
He finally started to feel drowsy.
I have to kill someone.