A paranoid Matthew Mannella killed a Winnipeg teen because he wrongly believed the youth was involved in arranging a "hit" on him, court heard Monday.
Mannella, 24, pleaded guilty to manslaughter and was sentenced to 10 years in prison under a joint recommendation from Crown and defence lawyers.
Christopher Surbey, 17, was stabbed to death in a park behind a Talbot Avenue apartment block in June 2005.
Surbey and Mannella had met for the first time earlier that night. Their girlfriends were friends, court was told.
All four had been inside an Elmwood apartment block, and Mannella apparently grew suspicious of Surbey.
Mannella grabbed a knife as they headed out for a walk, then repeatedly plunged the weapon into Surbey once they were alone.
Several witnesses heard Surbey's cries for help, including him saying "I don't want to die."
Mannella took off and was arrested by police days later inside a Winnipeg hotel. He was originally charged with second-degree murder, but the Crown agreed to reduce the charge after cutting a plea bargain.
The credibility and co-operation of witnesses may have made going to trial risky, court was told.
Mannella had planned to argue self-defence based on his belief Surbey was out to get him.
"He believed he had a hit on his head and the victim was there to hurt him," Crown attorney Ramona Josza said.
Mannella has a lengthy criminal record that includes convictions for robbery, assault and possessing weapons. He was wanted by police at the time of Surbey's killing after failing to turn himself in for an intermittent jail sentence just days earlier.
Surbey was also a troubled young man, who had fetal alcohol syndrome and was in the care of Macdonald Youth Services under a voluntary placement agreement with his parents.
Val and Vince Surbey adopted Christopher at the age of two, knowing he'd had a tragic start to life.
Christopher suffered both physical and sexual abuse during his first two years, and was often deprived of food and water. When he came to the couple, he demonstrated behavioural problems, and was diagnosed with fetal alcohol syndrome almost seven years later.
By the time he was in his teens, Surbey showed a propensity to violence that made it impossible for his parents to keep him at home with three younger siblings.
He received about 16 hours of supervision daily, but was left alone at night. He sometimes had violent outbursts because of his condition.
Those who knew and cared for Surbey described him as having "a dual personality" -- he could be sweet and charming, but also had a darker side. He had also started hanging around with a rough crowd and spending nights on the streets.
Val said her son became involved with drugs and alcohol, fuelling his unpredictable and violent behaviour.
"You took the life of a shining star," she told Mannella Monday, while reading her victim impact statement in court. A large collage of pictures showing Christopher at various stages in his life sat in front of her.
"You killed a young man who had so much promise. Thinking of his paralyzing fear is something that keeps me awake night after night."
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On the web
See a transcript of the victim
impact statement at:
winnipegfreepress.com
'You killed a young man who had so much promise'
Mr. Mannella, (and you don't deserve that respect, but you share the same name as my grandson and I can't bring myself to utter your name in any context) my name is Val Surbey. I am Christopher Surbey's proud mother working with him to help him achieve his hopes and dreams at the time you brought all that to an end by murdering him.
Our family had already worked our way through the death of another son in 1987, not realizing that this could ever happen to us again. However it did. When the police came to our door at 6:30 on the morning of June 6, 2005, it was for something we never imagined could happen to us.
You took the life of a shining star. Chris' potential with supports was unlimited. He loved life, loved his family, and was looking forward to the turning point he and I had mapped out for him a few days before he was brutally taken from us. You, Mr. Mannella completed the task of removing Christopher from our world. He didn't want to die. A friend who responded to the scene that night told me that Chris told the heroes trying to help him that he didn't want to die. He wanted to live. We were making plans to try and change his direction. He was planning on spending that Monday with myself and Dan looking for a job, reconnecting with the Addictions Foundation and heading back to see his doctor to explore a new medication regime to enable him to achieve all that he wanted to accomplish.
A sequence of events led to Christopher's destruction. He didn't need you to finish that journey for him. He needed you to control yourself, leave that knife you had at home, and think of your own family and you own little child.
You killed a young man who had so much promise.
The time after Christopher's untimely death has been filled with crisis after crisis within our family. Christopher's grandmother was very ill when he was killed and attended his funeral in wheelchair. She died the following January. Our family struggled to come to grips with the loss of one so young. Tension and stress reigned in our household and still does. I can't describe the feelings of intense anger that come over me when I think about senseless Christopher's demise was. I can't describe the complete feeling of loss we all feel.
My husband, Christopher's father suffered a massive stroke this past February and is not expected to recover. He is and will remain in chronic care indefinitely with very little hope of coming home. Our son Timothy has Down syndrome. He continues to ask if Chris is going to be attending family functions. He has yet to understand that Chris isn't coming back. At the interment of my mom-in-law's ashes, Timothy asked me if Chris was in the vault with her and Poppa. I said no, that Chris' work on this earth wasn't done yet. Today, he is safe in my family room in our home.
Every night when I say goodnight to my son I experience amazing guilt that I wasn't able to protect him. I constantly tell him how sorry I am that his life was taken from him without his having a say in when it should end. I tell him how sorry I am that someone else acted with extreme disregard for human life, particularly his, chose to remove a child with disabilities from this earth. My husband has gone through the same guilt, and together we have tried to get past that. At the time of his stroke, we were going to counseling for ourselves and exploring avenues for our surviving sons.
Christopher came to us at the age of two and we adopted him shortly after he turned three. Even at that young age we were able to see his potential. We sought out every resource we could to encourage that potential, nurture it and watch it bloom. Sadly and tragically you brought to a sudden end all that he was entitled to by taking his life.
Time and time again during the year after Christopher was taken from us by you, I returned to the place where he was attacked retracing his steps from that park to the apartment block where he finally was able to get help but died. Time and time again I sobbed thinking about how terrified he was, how much he struggled to live and how devastated those who tried to help him were when they weren't successful. A friend who attended Christopher that night told me of his last moments. His last words were "I don't want to die." Thinking about his paralyzing fear is something that keeps me awake night after night to this day. That is something that will never leave his father and me.
Due to the extent of Vince's stroke, he is unable to speak or move any part of his body other than his head. He has a communication board which he uses to spell out what he wants to say. I asked him if he wanted to say anything regarding Christopher's death and he said that he wanted everyone to know that Christopher was a good kid, and that he misses him terribly. Then he started to cry and couldn't stop. That is how painful this is for him even to this day. (When I read this to him in hospital yesterday, he cried again. I had to wait for him to collect himself before I could go on.)
Our son Ryan isn't able to describe his pain in words. When I ask him if there is anything he wants to tell you, he can't speak. His face shows it all. The pain is as intense today as it was over two years ago.
Tonight I just had to have my mom in law's dog put down as she was very ill. In getting this ready, working to keep my family together and trying not to fall apart every time I look at my son's picture, visit my husband or hear a song that brings back all those intense emotions, I can't describe to you to what degree you have insinuated yourself into our family, a place where you are despised and definitely not wanted.
You've left your young child a horrible legacy: the murderer of a child with disabilities.
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