Samuel Davis (17) just stabbed a store clerk to death in San Antonio, TX for refusing to give tobacco His bond is set to just $500k

🚨 HORRIFIC PLEASE SHARE 🚨 A 15 year old British boy has had to undergo plastic surgery after two police officers shove his face on to spiked railings. The police have lost all compassion and professionalism at this point #BritainFirst #SaveBritain #BritishPatriot #PoliceAccountability #EndPoliceBrutality #JusticeMatters #FreeSpeechUK #ProtectOurRights #UnitedForBritain #MakeYourVoiceHeard @RestoreBritain @RestoreNetwork_ @RupertLowe10

Why does Elon feel likes he’s entitled to $1,000,000,000,000 ???

“Hey, I am Akshay Gupta’s friend.” That’s how the message began—from Jasmine, his friend and classmate at Penn State. “He used to cheer me up every time I felt like quitting my PhD.” But this time, there was no cheer from Akshay. Jasmine came to Austin with one purpose: to see her friend’s body. Looking at his body at the funeral house on Saturday was the most gut-wrenching experience of my life, she says. Akshay Gupta was 30 years old. A builder. A giver. A brother. A son. “He was so full of life. Always made everyone laugh.” He always made time for others. He mentored. He volunteered. He cooked for the homeless. In 2023, Jasmine and Akshay went to Princeton together, where he took first place at a national hackathon. He had won similar awards at Brown, UPenn, Harvard, Johns Hopkins, Yale. His brilliance was constant, his success, earned. “He was super intelligent and hardworking,” Jasmine said. He had options—including a lucrative job offer from Amazon. But Akshay was focused on his health-tech startup, building something that would help seniors walk safely, avoid falls, and live independently. He didn’t just believe in what he was building. He believed in where he was building it. He believed in America. “America was a dreamland,” Jasmine said. “He was more American than anyone.” He defended the country’s ability to turn talent into success. “He wanted to make it big, and he was on the right path.” Last Wednesday, Akshay was preparing to give a talk about his startup at a local meetup. He never made it. He didn’t own a car yet. He had just moved to Austin from Florida and was staying with a roommate. They’d considered California, but thought Austin would be a better place to launch. So Akshay boarded the bus. He sat down. Moments later, he was bleeding out. Then dead. It was the first time he rode that bus. And the last. “We all never felt this much pain,” Jasmine said. “He just died randomly.” He was stabbed in the neck with a butcher knife—an unprovoked attack by a mentally ill vagrant with a long history of crimes. A man the system had released again and again, despite a trail of charges—misdemeanors, felonies, two violent offenses. “A person that amazing just died for no reason—by someone who should have been in a hospital.” Jasmine says that Akshay’s mother hasn’t eaten since hearing the horrific news. His family, desperate to reach his body, couldn’t get visas in time—not his brother, not his relatives. Only his father made it, flying alone to Austin to bring his son’s body home. On Saturday, Akshay’s father stood in silence at the funeral home beside Jasmine. Jasmine says he didn’t speak. He didn’t cry. Until it was time to leave. Then: “Let’s go home, son.”