Victims' Rights

Do Victim’s Need More Rights?
When I was a child my best friend, Rosie, and I would play at each other’s houses and we would walk each other half way home at the end of each day. Ashburn Village, the neighborhood we lived in, was an upper class development and it was considered safe. On October 14, 1991 the people of this neighborhood found that it was just the opposite. At four o’clock that afternoon Rosie and I were playing school in my basement when the phone rang. It was Rosie’s brother calling to tell her that her parents wanted her home. As usual we procrastinated, thinking of every possible reason to slow down the process of leaving my house. I think it took her ten minutes to put her shoes on and tie them. After twenty minutes of this procrastination the phone rang again. This time it was Rosie’s father trying to hurry her up. It was half past four when I began walking her halfway home. At the end of Alta Vista Drive, the street I lived on, we said goodbye....