THE DAYS AFTER THE DOOR SLAMMED SHUT

By David Bomber

One of the things I like to do with Bullet Journaling For Serial Killers is offer the blog platform to offenders. This piece is all in David's own words, his perspective if you like. Here is a bit about David.

Hello there! My name is David Bomber and I am reaching out in hopes of gaining your support for my legal defence fund and signing my petition. If you would, please allow me a few moments of your time so that I may give you an understanding of my situation, and more specifically why I need your support...

In July 2011, I was convicted by a jury of aggravated malicious wounding, second-degree murder, and three (3) counts of assault & battery. In addition to that, I pled guilty to hit & run and reckless driving. What makes the aggravated malicious wounding and second-degree convictions so interesting is that both convictions involved not only the same victim, but also the same act - a SINGLE stabbing in which I was defending myself after being placed in a chokehold in my home. Additionally, the sentences handed down for these two convictions are disproportionately different - twenty-five (25) years for the aggravated malicious wounding conviction and fifteen (15) years for the second-degree murder conviction. The end result was I received a consecutive sentence of forty-one (41) years and sixty (60) days, with a release date of Oct. 2045.

According to the Court of Appeals & Supreme Court of Virginia, they could "not ascertain the legislative intent..." and ultimately both courts upheld my convictions for both aggravated malicious wounding and second-degree murder. However, because the language in those particular statues is quite ambiguous, as both of those courts are saying, I have take taken the liberty of drafting a petition along with a proposed bill that would resolve this issue. Not to mention, safeguard similarly situated defendants like me in the future. On top of that, I added a clause that enhances the punishment for anyone who causes the involuntary termination of a woman's pregnancy. To learn more, please visit http://chng.it/MwpbTVqZ (Note: this address is case-sensitive as the M, T, V, & Z must be capitalized in order to access this page).

The reason why I desperately need your support is that it is going to take a competent attorney who is willing to roll up his sleeves and advocate on my behalf to get my petition/bill presented to Virginia's lawmakers, as well as get the Governor to hear my case. Trust me, I know from experience how difficult it is for a prisoner [who isn't represented by counsel] to get his voice heard. Put it to you this way, NONE of the state or federal courts, including the United States Supreme Court (which I myself petitioned twice), would hear my arguments about the overall discrepancies in time as well as contradictory evidence given in the alleged assaults, among other issues... My point is, it is going to take a competent attorney for me to get the justice that I seek.

Please don't get me wrong, I believe in accountability. But I also believe in fairness too. While I respect that the jury rejected that I acted in self-defence, like most people I nonetheless cannot wrap my head around how I ended up receiving MORE time for what the law refers to as the "lesser offense" (the aggravated malicious wounding), and LESS time for the "greater offense" (the second-degree murder). With that being said, any donation you could give, no matter how small, would be not only be appreciated but also would go towards setting these matters right.

THE DAYS AFTER THE DOOR SLAMMED SHUT Before that fateful day, you could say that I was someone who had a bit of swagger with him. Then again I did walk around with an air of confidence, and quite frankly I could be pretty darn cocky and even downright arrogant - when it suited me. That's just the way that I carried it back then. Never mind that at the time I drove a convertible sports car, or that I was screwing this woman who was much younger than I. Of course me being me and the flashy person that I was, I certainly didn't hide the fact that I had a mistress from anyone, particularly from my estranged wife. Like I said, that is just the way that I carried it. Besides, when it came to my estranged wife I had my reasons... But those aren't the reasons why I had an attitude like I was this larger than life figure. That particular attitude actually came from overcoming some of the crappy hands that life had dealt along the way - many of which I somehow or another managed to come out on top of. Little did I know it though, life was about to deal me the crappiest hand of them all... Waking up on the morning on June 6th, 2010, I was well aware of my surroundings. Besides, it wasn't like I hadn't never been here before. Of course having spent more than one "vacation" in such a fabulous resort, I was all too familiar with all the different smells and sounds that was associated with this place, so I knew exactly where I was at. The only thing that I was unsure of was what exactly had happened the night before, and of course I wasn't entirely sure as to why I was now sitting in the Roanoke County Jail. Don't get me wrong. I knew that I had been charged with malicious wounding as the paperwork in my orange jumpsuit was perfectly clear about that. So it wasn't like I wasn't informed about that. However, the biggest issue that I had at the moment (besides being in jail) was that I could hardly remember anything, including going in front of the magistrate and receiving said paperwork. In fact, the only thing that I could remember right then, which oddly I was able to recall in great clarity, was sitting in a car in my friends' driveway and crying hysterically. Everything else I was pretty much blank on. I did however have the feeling that I had spoken to my mistress on the phone last night in which I thought she kept telling me "I'm sorry" over and over, but at the moment I wasn't 100% certain that conversation had even taken place. Meanwhile, I sat there in the holding cell, dazed, befuddled, and downright depressed as I desperately tried to reconstruct what had happened and how I ultimately landed there. Later, I would learn that I had experienced a condition called dissociative amnesia, which is characterized by the inability to recall important personal information or events and is usually associated with stressful or traumatic events. Further, in dissociative amnesia the length of memory loss varies from days to weeks to years. By the time the next morning rolled around, my memory started coming back into focus little by little. Finally, the fog was starting to lift. Of course I still had some gaps and some things were still fuzzy, but at least now I had a better idea of what had happened. Besides, the jail had officially "classified" me and now that they was finally moving me upstairs to the maximum security pod, I could finally use the phone again and get some answers. As you can pretty much guess, the very first person that I tried to call was my mistress. But go figure, her cell was shut off so there went my one and only courtesy call. As far as that went, until she put funds on the phone (which she didn't know anything about at the time), I basically would be unable to call her. In other words, I was stuck like chuck at the moment and would simply have to wait for the answers that I needed. Fortunately, I was able to get in touch with this chick named Amanda that I also had relations with. The great thing there was that she had funds on the phone, so that enabled us to talk. Naturally, she wanted to interrogate me about what had happened, but really that was the last thing that I wanted to talk about. My biggest concern at the moment was that it was very, very important that I get in touch with my mistress, which I most definitely expressed to Amanda. Besides, I pretty much refused to talk to the cops when they arrested me, and further even went as far as exercising my Miranda rights. Not to mention, I was still in a fugue-like state and couldn't give her all the answers anyway. As far as that went, the only things that I was able to recall at the moment was that I had met my neighbour for the very first time. Basically it went from he and I having a few beers at his apartment, to his demeanour changing later on at my apartment in which he claimed several times that he suffered from PTSD, to him threatening to kill me. While I was able to recall all those details pretty well, it was what happened afterwards that my memory was still struggling with. For that very reason, it made it all the more important to get in touch with my mistress. If anyone had the answers that I was looking for, it was her. The other thing that Amanda brought up in our conversation was that now that I was in jail I was definitely not getting custody of my children like I was supposed to have. For me this was a painful reminder of not just being separated even further from my beloved Damian & Aaron, but also that my custody case had been continued eleven days ago. Of course deep down inside I knew that Amanda was absolutely right, so filling in the blanks was paramount for my own peace of mind. Needless to say, I was going through it.

No sooner than I got off the phone with Amanda, I was told that I had go back downstairs to the docket area. My first thought was that this couldn't be good, at all. Naturally, my one and only guess was that I was about to get served more charges. Then again, I couldn't fathom any other reason why I would be summoned down there. Of course I had the foggiest clue as to exactly what more I could be charged for, but still that didn't stop me from stepping out of the elevator with a bit of apprehension. As it turned out, it was nothing of the sort. Come to find out, it was Sergeant Carroll who had called me down to the docket area after my mistress showed up at the jail upset and demanding to see me. While he couldn't let her visit me right then and there because of jail regulations, he did help me out with a few others things... none of which he was obligated to do. First, he passed along a message about my mistress needing to speak to me about getting into our apartment. Apparently there was some sort of issue with that. Secondly, he let me call Cheryl Argabright who was the property manager at Cinnamon Ridge, where I was leasing my apartment. In turn, I had a pretty spirited discussion with her after she tried to tell me that I was now being evicted from the apartment. Of course I shouldn't been surprised whatsoever by this, as Cheryl had been trying every trick in the book to get me evicted from the moment I had fired her son Paul. As far as that went, I don't know what she expected considering that her son was nothing more than an ambulance chasing lawyer who tried to con me. Of course I did refuse to finish paying that charlatan once I realized that he was out to swindle me, so of course there was bad blood. Needless to say, if Cheryl thought that she could evict me just like that without me getting my property out she had another thing coming. In the end, she finally agreed to allow my mistress back into the apartment - only after I filled out and notarized a paper that gave her permission to go in the premises. But still, that only delayed the inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Cheryl would get exactly what she wanted. Minutes later, after hopping on the elevator and heading back upstairs to the pod, I went straight to the phone and got in touch with my mistress... (Excerpt of audio file #s34100607121113 - captured at the Roanoke County/Salem Jail on June 7th, 2010 at 12:12 pm). Male voice: I was wondering why I couldn't get a hold of you yesterday. I was beginning to think that you had left me here to rot. Female voice: No, I, I... Male voice: Hey, where you at? Female voice: I'm at Tony and Malissa's. Male voice: Uh, well, uh they just called me downstairs a few minutes ago, um, Cheryl and them wanting to know what I was going to do about the stuff so I told them that you was going to take care of that. I guess they're evicting me now. Why are you at Tony and Malissa's? Female voice: Uh, because I couldn't stay, they wouldn't let me stay at the apartment, Jim wouldn't let me stay with them because Lindsay was there. (inaudible) wouldn't let me stay there because of all of this crazy crap so I called Tony and Malissa because that was the only way... Male voice: Umm-hmm. Female voice: ... to have anywhere to stay. Male voice: So they come and got you? Female voice: Yeah. And they told me that I could stay as long as I want. ... Male voice: Well, I need to talk to this Larry dude and get his story straight. Female voice: Mike. His real name is Mike. Male voice: Well, whatever it is Female voice: I know. I know. I've already went from Brian to Larry to Mike. And Cheryl just called and cussed me out. Male voice: Oh, yeah? About what? Female voice: Um, (inaudible) about having to come down there to get the stuff out and stuff. She was like I don't think that I want you living here either if you're going to live with somebody (inaudible) and I'm not even going to try to explain it to you. I'm not allowed to talk with it about anybody so fucking kiss my ass. And she said do what? And then she started cussing me out. Male voice: Don't worry about it. You ain't heard from Dave? Female voice: No, Dave's in court. I just called like I called. I talked to Sergeant Carroll and then I called and uh, um (inaudible) said that he was still at court and that he would be calling me (inaudible). Male voice: I was hoping you was going to be at the courthouse this morning. Female voice: I had no way there Sweetie. Male voice: So what's your parents say about all this? Female voice: Mom don't know what to think um because Tony took me down to the apartment and me and Tony were, the first time me and Tony went down to the apartment, we was making sure that we got your computer and your speakers, the stuff that was valuable to you. That way if Amy did hear about this that she couldn't go in there and get that.

Male voice: So why did Malissa call the cops? Female voice: Because she was scared that the guy was going to die and if the guy died and she kept you his from where he was at and she'd be an accessory and she'd lose her kids and she'd be in jail. Male voice: Ummm. So but they're helping you out now? Female voice: Yeah. They, she, Malissa cried on my shoulder all day yesterday because, well like in the afternoon after all the family left, because they had Michael's birthday party over here yesterday... Male voice: Umm-hmm. Female voice: Um, she cried on my shoulder for about three hours saying I'm so sorry Velvie I called, I hope that you don't hate me. Male voice: Did you tell her what happened? Female voice: Yeah, I told her what happened. She's like but if that guy died and I didn't call then I'd be an accessory to murder. You understand that, right? Male voice: I mean I don't remember everything. All I know is he said something about killing me and killing the kids or some shit like that. Female voice: He had you in the headlock. He said, it, like it built up a lot like, I don't know, he just kept on talking about how he was like post traumatic stress and stuff. And then he was like well let me tell you my situation with my kids and um he's like, he was like and then he didn't say anything (inaudible) tell him about the situation with your kids and then you, he (inaudible) listen, and you started trying, make him cheer up and um, you know, like messing around with him like wrestling with him? Male voice: Umm-hmm. Female voice: And then you said come on you punk, you know, like just playing with him. And he got you in a headlock and he said I don't give a fuck about your kids, I hope they die. And he was cussing you out completely (inaudible) and that's when everything went crazy. Male voice: Yeah, but didn't I get loose or something and I went into the kitchen and he tried to grab the knife or something? Female voice: I don't know. It happened so fast I just know that you were the last one with the knife because you were defending yourself. Male voice: Is that what you told the detectives? Female voice: Yeah. Male voice: Then why'd you kept saying to me I'm sorry? Female voice: Because I feel like they're going to try to turn around what I say to you and make you say something to make you mad at me and stuff. ... A couple of days after my arraignment, my court appointed lawyer, Jeff, came to see me. As soon as I met him, I could tell that he was out of his element. That much was clear. Besides, he flat out told me that he did corporate work for twenty-some odd years and that he was just now dipping his toe into criminal defence work. My first thought was that I was definitely going to fire this guy, but that would just delay things even more. It was bad enough that I was already being held in jail without bond. However, the only way that I was going to be to able retain Dave (who was representing me on my custody case), was that I needed to get a bond hearing and further I needed a reasonable bond as well. Of course if I did get out, I would really have to hustle just to make Dave's retainer. Granted, it was a long shot, but it wasn't like I had much of a choice in the matter. So after careful consideration, it really wasn't beneficial to fire the guy. To Jeff's credit, he showed up pretty much every other day to discuss the case as well as the research that he had conducted thus far. To me that said a lot about him and his ethics, so maybe the guy wasn't so bad after all. When it came to that, most court appointed attorneys only visit their clients once or twice at most when they are in jail. Yet, this guy was constantly showing up. Over the next several days, my memories came flooding back in a terrible way. It was as if someone had turned on a spigot and I couldn't turn it off. Not only did I start having these really vivid nightmares, but also I constantly visualized what had happened throughout the course of the day. It was like I was reliving those events over & over. And of course, I couldn't stop thinking about Mike. Then again it was kind of hard not to considering that Jeff constantly provided me with updates. Last that I had heard, Mike was in a medically induced coma, but was expected to make a full recovery. For me, that was a huge relief to hear. While I still felt some kind of way about being attacked in my own home, much more getting threatened while getting choked to the point of unconsciousness. Needless to say, none of that was pleasant. Not to mention, I certainly wasn't enthused about being in jail either. But still, I was glad to know that he was going to recover. The following Saturday, I called my mistress just like I did every day. By now she and I pretty much talked as often as we could, thanks to Tony helping her put some funds on the phone. When it came to him, he & I rarely chatted on the phone. As far as that went, I simply chalked that up to one of those unspoken things that we carried over the course of 30+ years of our friendship. So when he informed my mistress that he needed to speak to me privately, I knew that it had to be about something important. As it turned out, Malissa had mentioned to Tony that she noticed that my mistress had a "glow" about her, which according to Malissa meant that more than likely she was pregnant. So he wanted to know if I wanted him to run my mistress out to Walmart so she could get a pregnancy test, which of course I did. A couple of hours later, I found out that my mistress and I were expecting a child. On one hand, I was just as elated as she was, but on the other it was downright depressing knowing that I had to sit there in jail, waiting to see how all of this was going to play out. At least for the moment I was holding onto hope that my upcoming bond hearing would go in my favour...

It didn't take Jeff long to get me a bond hearing scheduled, but then again these types of matters are pretty routine so it wasn't like it was some sort of incredible feat on his part. But still I was grateful for him getting it set up, and further that I was finally able to go in front of a judge. Hopefully, he or she would see that I had a job, that I didn't pose a flight risk, and a reasonable bond would get set enabling me to get out of there. Of course I expected the prosecutor to pitch a fit and pretty much counter everything that Jeff said. And that is exactly what Marian Kelley, who was the Chief Assistant Commonwealth's Attorney, did. Never mind all the mumbo jumbo about being a flight risk, blah, blah, blah. That type of stuff was typical and like I said, was pretty much expected anyways. However, as I found out, all of that was child's play to this witch. Instead of just sticking to the tools in her arsenal, she took things to an entirely different level that threw everyone for a loop, including the judge, who looked at her incredibly after she told him that she had received some information that I wanted to "finish the job." Right then at there, I knew that witch was definitely not going to play fair in this case, and she didn't... In the end, the judge flat out told her that he didn't believe a word of what she had just told him. But still, even though he knew that she was full of shit, just like I did, he nonetheless didn't set me a bond. If the news of me having to remain in jail wasn't depressing enough, Jeff showed up a couple of days later and dropped a huge bomb on me. Apparently, Marian Kelley wanted to play nice all of a sudden, or so it seemed. Not that I was really buying it though. This time she shared all of the statements that my mistress had made, including the one that she had made to the 911 dispatcher. When it came to that particular statement, I almost couldn't believe it. In fact I had to read it several times just to make sure I wasn't fantasizing what I was reading. But there it was in black & white. Even as shady as Marian Kelley was, I hardly doubted that she was dubious enough to make this up. Apparently, my mistress took it upon herself to tell the dispatcher that Mike had attempted suicide by stabbing himself. In that moment, I can't even begin to describe the feelings that were invoked. After all this time, I thought that my mistress called 911 and told them that Mike had choked me to the point of unconsciousness and that I stabbed him in self-defence. Now even more so, I regretted listening to her instructions to leave, much more following through with them. No matter how hard of a pill that is for me to swallow, I know that I can never take that back. That is something that I will have to live with. That's on me. But that wasn't all... When detectives first interviewed my mistress the night of the stabbing, they flat out told her that they knew that she was lying. They even went on to tell her that, "Now is the not the time to protect David." Like she told them, she said that she wasn't and even went as far as saying, "I swear." That's when she changed her story again... and said that the knife "slipped" into Mike's chest after a struggle. Her third statement was one that she not only handwrote, but also was witnessed by my neighbour, Jim, the same night of the stabbing. In this statement she said that she was "correcting" her previous statements, and went on to describe how Mike put me in a headlock in which I later defended myself from. In the fourth statement that she made to the detective the next day, she went on to describe the same things that she had described in her "corrected" statement, as well as mentioning Mike's repeated claims of suffering from PTSD. It is fair to say that when I was done reviewing all of those transcripts I was definitely feeling not just some type of way, but also things that I don't think that I had ever felt before. At least I knew one thing, I now understood why my mistress kept telling me that she was sorry over & over the night that I was arrested. Not only that, it wasn't lost on me that my mind blocked out so many other things at first, but didn't repress those exact words from her. Needless to say, I called and confronted her. Naturally, she cried and said that she was sorry, and then went on to tell me that she didn't have the heart to tell me the truth. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew right then and there that our relationship was never going to survive. After all how could it after she had broken my trust? But still, I didn't kick her to the curb. After that the bombs just kept coming... This time it was the news that Mike had suffered a "rebleed," and as a result he went into a permanent vegetative state. Medically, it was impossible for him to recover from, as I found out. As you can only imagine, I was absolutely devastated when Jeff told me this. On the other side of things, it also meant that the State was going to drop a malicious wounding and upgrade it to aggravated malicious wounding, which was a more serious offense. Needless to say, my emotions were running at full capacity at the moment. A couple of weeks later, on June 29th, 2010, I went for another bond hearing. This time it was in the Circuit Court instead of the General District Court, where I had my last hearing. As far as this hearing went, it was pretty much now or never as to whether or not that they would set a bond. Of course, by now my hope was really beginning to diminish that a bond would get set. As it turned out, it was a good thing that I didn't get my hopes up because once again my request for bail was denied. If I had guess, I'd say that the wicked witch did her happy dance when she went back to her office. From what little I knew about Marian, I wouldn't put it past her.

About the only thing that could take my mind off things and put me in my happy place during this time was the fact that my mistress was carrying my child. When it came to that, there was no doubt that it was mine. That much I was sure of. By now, we had both talked about it and had settled on calling her Hailey. So, what if it turned out to be a boy, you might ask. Well... we were pretty much stuck on our child being a girl, so we really didn't put a whole lot of thought as to what to name him if that turned out to be the case. For the time being, we simply called our child Hailey as we had our heart set on a girl. Worse comes to worse, at least we could laugh at ourselves later on. And like I said, talking about Hailey was a great distraction from all that was going on. It was around this same time that my mistress developed a yeast infection, one she said that had gotten so bad she felt like she needed to see the doctor. Of course, I really didn't think anything about it, nor did I think much about it when she told me that the doctor had prescribed a pill to take care of it. As far as I was concerned, everything was hunky dory. Besides, it was only a yeast infection, nothing serious. Then again, I certainly wasn't an expert in this sort of stuff. It wasn't until my mistress suddenly got startled out of the blue that I knew that something wasn't right. It wasn't so much as her yelp that came out, but more so it was the concern that she had in her voice. As it turned out, she was fiddling with the box that the pill came in when she noticed the warning that read: "Do not take if pregnant." That's when she told me that she had already taken the pill the night before. Needless to say, this was grim news for both of us. All we could hope for at that point was a miracle, but it didn't come... that was obvious as the doctor couldn't detect a heartbeat when she went for her first sonogram. Through it all, my mistress maintained that she was never going to abandon me, even after we found out that our Hailey was not coming into this world. Not that I believed her, and in fact I even told her that she wouldn't stick around. Further, I even went as far as telling how her demeanour would change right before she split... By now she had moved back in with her parents. Sure, they lived an hour away, and despite that she still managed to visit me twice a day (thanks to the jail changing their visitation to in-person video visits). Not to mention, we talked quite a bit everyday on the phone. But like I told her, those things would get old to her and that's what would mark the beginning of the end... First, the phone calls would slack up. Instead of talking on the phone 5, 6, times a day like we did everyday, it would decrease dramatically. Likewise, so would the visits. And naturally, there would be a zillion different excuses... "my car wouldn't start," "I dropped my phone in the toilet," yak, yak, yak. But in reality, all it boiled down to was that they couldn't face the fact that they didn't have the heart to say that they've found someone else. Not that it wouldn't be hard to figure out by this point. So yes, my mistress and I had this conversation on numerous occasions, and like I told her each and every time we did, I only asked for two things: "First, have the heart to tell me that you have found someone else. Secondly, when you do, please hand over my laptop and external hard drive to either Tony or to my family." After all they did contain precious moments of my children that I was able to capture before this nightmare began. Of course her response to all of this was she wasn't going anywhere. To me this smacked loudly of her "I swear" statement that she made to Detective Walters, but then again she did break my trust. So for me it wasn't a matter of if she was going to stick around, it was more of how long would it be until she found someone else? However, the bigger questions were, would she have the heart to look me in the eye and tell me, and would she be decent enough to hand over all of the memories of my children before she parted ways? As they say, I guess only time would tell. Right before my preliminary hearing, Jeff came to see me. This time he came specifically to discuss a plea agreement with me. For whatever reason, Jeff took it upon himself to go to Marian and see what kind of offer she would give me, if any. At first, I was stunned. For starters, you don't go to the prosecutor and offer to plea bargain, particularly without your client's consent, or before the preliminary hearing. That is just a no-no all on fronts. Besides, at that particular hearing the State has to put some of their cards, but not all, on the table. It is then up to a judge to certify that there is probable cause to move forward. Simply put, it was a rookie mistake made on Jeff's part. If that wasn't enough to rattle my cage, the news of Marian's offer of a 30 years sentence with 10 years of it suspended, did the trick. Needless to say, I was livid! In response to this, I told him that first, he needed to tell Marian that I would take a jury trial before I accepted any sort of offer like the one she had in mind. And secondly, he needed to file a motion on my behalf and get a court reporter appointed for my preliminary hearing. If Marian wanted to play hardball, so could I...

Right before the year ended, I thought that I had finally caught my first break. After the second subpoena that my lawyers filed, it looked as if the Veteran Affairs Dept. was finally going to comply with our request to get copies of Mike's medical records. Needless to say, we was looking into his claims of suffering from PTSD as well as any other issues that he might of had. Instead of copying them like we thought they would, they actually put them in a box - all 5,000 pages of them, and dropped them off at the courthouse. From that point, one of the clerks was tasked with copying every single page. After she accomplished that, I probably would've given the clerk a pat on the back, maybe even an atta-girl too, had I ran into her - that is before she took me to court. Apparently she wanted in on the action too... Why did she take me court? Because she had to make copies of all those documents before they got returned to the Veteran Affairs Dept. Um, hello lady, that is your fucking job for crying out loud. After that it kinda made me wonder who else wanted to take me court. January 18th, 2011 started out like any other day for me. I had breakfast, drank my morning coffee, and eventually got around to reading the newspaper. You can only imagine the shock and horror that hit me when I was skimming through the paper, going past the obituaries to the following pages after that, when I saw Mike's picture in the obituary. In that moment, my heart hit the ground. I didn't even have to see his name in there. It wasn't like I didn't recognize him immediately. After all he had filled my dreams night after night for months on end, so there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that I wouldn't know his face. As it turned out, Mike had passed away three days earlier on January 15th, 2011. The next thing I did was call Wayne... It was 11:57 am when that call took place. As you can only imagine, I was beyond devastated when I read the news about Mike. As far as my mistress went, it didn't seem to affect her, not that I noticed anyway. The only thing that she seemed to care about was that he attacked me first, never mind that he was now gone. Up to this point, our relationship was still going at the same pace as it had been since I first went into jail, and of course she was claiming to be this "ride or die" chick. But still, no matter what she said I couldn't suppress the lingering doubts that constantly welled inside of me. Despite feeling that way, I promised her in the beginning that I wouldn't kick her to the curb after I learned that she had lied. As I told her, that ball was in her court. The first fracture in our relationship appeared sometime around mid February... A couple of months back, my mistress moved from her parents house in Floyd county back to Roanoke. She ended up moving in with Kris, a girl who used to live in the building across from me at Cinnamon Ridge. Now, she and her girlfriend had moved to another apartment complex, and had a spare bedroom. The rest is as they say, history. For whatever reason, that arraignment didn't work out, and supposedly at one time there was threats of Kris telling my mistress that if she didn't move out she would go to prosecutor and claim that I assault her. Finally, right before Mike passed away, my mistress moved back in with her parents. That should have been the end of the story there, but it wasn't. For whatever reason, one day she told me that she was afraid that if I got out and ran into Kris she was going to tell me that my mistress had fucked some dude while she lived there. And if she did tell me that not to believe her. As far as that went, that was the one & only clause in "the ball is in your court" promise, which my mistress was well aware of. Besides, there was the tone of her voice when said it, which was reminiscent of her "I swear" statement that she made to the detective. Right then & there, I knew that she had fucked someone. Yet, I didn't kick her to curb. From there, it went to her wanting us to move out of Roanoke all together and relocate somewhere else. Finally, it went to her telling me that maybe I should take a plea after all. As she put it, "If you get Life, it will be all my fault because I lied, and I can't handle that." As I told her, there was a snowball's chance of that happening. This was my life and not hers.

seemed to care about was that he attacked me first, never mind that he was now gone. Up to this point, our relationship was still going at the same pace as it had been since I first went into jail, and of course she was claiming to be this "ride or die" chick. But still, no matter what she said I couldn't suppress the lingering doubts that constantly welled inside of me. Despite feeling that way, I promised her in the beginning that I wouldn't kick her to the curb after I learned that she had lied. As I told her, that ball was in her court.

By the time April rolled around it was apparent that our relationship was on the verge of ending at any time. As predicted, both the phone calls and visits slacked up tremendously, and of course the excuses came along with that too. Part of the you're in jail and I have my freedom package, I suppose. Interestingly though, my mistress was invested just as much as I was in a hearing that I had on April 1st, 2011. One of the purposes of the hearing was see if the defence would be allowed to introduce evidence concerning Mike's claims of suffering from PTSD, which he in fact applied for benefits for. That right there should have given credibility to my mistress's statements to detectives about Mike's repeated claims of suffering from PTSD. The other purpose of the hearing was to have staff from the VA Dept. proffer testimony relating to Mike. One person we tried to get for the hearing was Kathleen Lynd, a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, but she didn't show up for the hearing. However, Dr. Bader, a psychologist for the VA Dept. did in fact show up for the hearing and further testified. According to him, he never personally evaluated Mike, so he based all of his testimony from what he could glean from the medical records. Besides the PTSD, there were two other areas that we were interested in. One of which was his past struggles with alcoholism. As far as that went, the records indicated that Mike had been involuntary admitted to the Veteran Affairs Medical Center over concerns for Delirious Tremmons Syndrome, also known as DTs. The other thing that we were interested in was that there were 36 references in the records that Mike was evaluated for Korsakoff's syndrome, which is "a severe mental disorder caused by damage to the nervous system from alcohol, vitamin deficiency, etc., characterized by multiple neuritis, memory loss, disorientation, etc." (quoted from Webster's New World Dictionary). In the end, the judge ruled that there was no evidence that Mike was turbulent when he was under the effects of alcohol. He then went on to say that the DTs were simply a manifestation from a lack of alcohol, which did not occur when he was drinking. Additionally, since Dr. Bader couldn't conclusively say that Mike had Korsakoff's Syndrome, the judge also determined that wasn't admissible either. Lastly, since the VA Dept. determined that Mike never saw any service related combat and further denied his claim for PTSD, the judge ruled those records to be inadmissible as well. The final thing the judge did was seal to all of the medical records. Three days later on April 4th, 2011, my trial began. By now I had been indicted for second-degree murder. The interesting thing there was that Marian didn't drop the aggravated malicious wounding like my lawyers thought she would. Instead, she tacked on the murder charge. Not only that, she also had me indicted on April 1st for another count of assault & battery, this one supposedly against Kris. Unfortunately, right after the jury was empanelled a mistrial was declared after a juror came forward and admitted to having business ties with Mike's father. In the end my trial was pushed back several months until the summer. After the mistrial, it was obvious that my mistress had found someone else. That was evident when my calls went unanswered and she pretty much stopped coming to visit, and of course the excuses got more farfetched. Finally, I just stop trying to call her altogether. A couple of weeks later, I was awoken first thing in the morning by one of the deputies who worked at the jail. Apparently, my mistress showed up demanding to see me. Much to my surprise they let her visit me right then & there, which was extraordinary considering that it during a period of lockdown. One thing about it and two things for sure, I wasn't about to gripe with the administration about it. Besides, it was obvious that something was up with her... No sooner than I sat down, she started crying. She didn't have to tell me... I already knew that she desperately wanted to tell me that she found someone else, but she couldn't do it. Finally, I asked her flat out if she had found someone else. She shook her head no, and then she started crying even more. In the end, I knew that it was the last time that she would ever come to visit me at the jail. And it was. Right before my second trial began, Wayne came to see me. This time he brought me a recent statement that my former mistress made to Detective Walters on June 30th, 2011. Of course he knew that she was no longer in the picture, so like he said he knew that I would find this latest statement pretty interesting... As it turned out, my former mistress gave the detective a statement that matched almost word for word, the same one that she gave near the Monterey Golf Course on June 6th, 2010, the day after the stabbing. Just like she said in that statement, she described how Mike flipped out and put me in a chokehold and that afterwards I defended myself. Days later on July 11th, 2011, my trial began for the second time. This time Marian Kelley wasn't representing the prosecution. She was out for back surgery, or something like that. In her place was Brian Holohan as well as another prosecutor. Just like I did previously, I went ahead and pled guilty to hit & run and reckless driving. After all I did back into a car and in my haste, sped out of the parking lot. Everything else I pled not guilty to. And just like they did during my first trial, my former mistress' parents sat there each and everyday watching my trial unfold. Because my mistress was to be called she was precluded from sitting in the gallery until after her testimony. Three days later and less than 3 hours after closing arguments, around 10 o'clock pm, the verdict was read. The jury had found me guilty on all counts. Afterwards, as a courtesy to me, that same night the administration at the jail let me use the phone in the docket area to call whomever I wanted. The first person I called was my dad, who I only talked with for a few minutes. Then I called my former mistress and told her what the jury had came back with. She then asked when the hearing was going to be to determine my sentence, which I replied was in the morning. The next thing I know there was a guy's voice in background asking her who she was talking to, then the line went dead. When I called back a moment later, he answered and said that she didn't want to talk to me. The next person I called was my estranged wife, who I talked with for over until 2 1/2 hours until the administration made me get off the phone. The very next morning I went to the penalty phase hearing, and lo and behold, there was my former mistress sitting in the gallery all by herself. She remained there until Lisa Worrell got on the stand and blamed her just as me she blamed me for her brother's death. As soon as my former mistress heard that she got up and bolted out the courtroom. That was the last time I have ever seen or heard from my former mistress. Years later, someone took it upon themselves to share with me that they had found out that she gotten strung out on drugs and that she lost custody of her three children. Since then, Wayne argued my case in front of both the Court of Appeals and the Supreme Court of Virginia, and both courts heard Wayne's arguments that my convictions for both aggravated malicious wounding & second-degree murder constituted double jeopardy, and both courts ultimately denied my appeals. From that point forward, I was on my own. Then again I had been since my former mistress abandoned me. This time, instead of adapting to the loneliness of not having a companion, or a real "ride or die" chick, I had to learn the law. After all, in my case who was going to step up and take on the U.S. Supreme Court? Although I knew that I had less than a 1% chance of the highest court in the land hearing my case, I nonetheless presented my case anyway. When that failed, I proceeded to challenge all of the courts through civil means from the trial court, to the Supreme Court of Virginia, and through all the federal courts until I went back before the U.S. Supreme again for the second time. Simply put, I continue to fight because the criminal justice system in the good ole "Land of the Free," is broken. Somebody needs to help try to fix up. Would you be willing to help join my fight? I could use the company. Thank you kindly for your time. It is appreciated! Please subscribe to my page and help correct a miscarriage of justice. All proceeds will go towards my legal defense fund. Thank you kindly! patreon.com/FreeDavidBomber Also, I need all the signatures that I can get to support a petition that I am presenting to Virginia lawmakers (Note: this address is case-sensitive as the M, T, V, & Z must be capitalized in order to access the page). Again, thanks for your support! http://chng.it/MwpbTVqZ To email me directly, please visit www.jpay.com and submit Virginia ID #1130793 (Jpay is a service that the Virginia D.O.C. utilizes for prisoner communications with the public)(Note: this service does require users to purchase virtual stamps in order to send messages). In the alternative, you can also reach me via email at davidbomber99@outlook.com or davidbomber73@yahoo.com (Note: these accounts are managed by a third party and may take some time to receive messages from them). To support me through my books or follow me on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/bomber1 To connect with me on Facebook: www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010160976893 To follow me on TikTok: @freedavidbomber To follow me on Instagram: @davidbomber1 To follow me on Twitter: @Bomber1M To join the conversation about my case: #freedavidbomber To read some of my legal writings & view my artwork: www.davidmbomber.wordpress.com To contact me via snail mail: David Bomber #1130793 Nottoway Correctional Center P.O. Box 488 Burkeville, Va. 23922 USA For Legal Mail Correspondence: Va. D.O.C. Central Mail Distribution Center c/o David Bomber #1130793 3521 Woods Way State Farm, Va. 23160 USA

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