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A faded picture from Courtney Herron's childhood shows a little girl with eyes that shine as brightly as her toothy grin.

It is an image that is hard to reconcile with the savagery of her death.

But Courtney's life story is complicated.

A bright-eyed and smiling Courtney Herron before the weight of the world crushed her gentle spirit. She fought hard to get her life back on track, but in the end it was snuffed out so violently in a cold, Melbourne park

Courtney Herron and her beloved grandfather. She had been close with him right up until his death. Even then Courtney would run to her grandmother in times of need 

A gorgeous child with the world at her feet, she would be consumed by its cruelty as an adult and spat out.

In the end it would be a life defined by personal demons, drug addiction and, finally, unspeakable violence.  

Courtney was born to loving parents John and Maxie in Melbourne on March 3, 1994.

'A DAMAGED LITTLE BIRD'

Life was different then. Hey, Hey It's Saturday was still in its prime on Australian TV screens and you could run onto the ground after the siren at a game of AFL footy. 

But like many before and after them, Courtney's parents fell out of love with each other.

They divorced when she was just three and her little world came crumbling down around it.

Her mother told The Age she was like a 'damaged little bird'.

Courtney never truly got over her broken family and life just seemed to get tougher as the years dragged on. 

She didn't benefit from the stability of a settled household and was moved from school to school during her formative years. 

She spent time at Lowther Hall Anglican Grammar School in Essendon, Lauriston Girls' School in Armadale, and then Genazzano in Kew.

Kids can be cruel and bullies had made her life that much tougher.

By her teens Courtney was already suffering from depression, anxiety and attachment issues.

Just two months after turning 18 she got stung for riding a train without a ticket - a trivial matter that somehow ended up in court. 

Courtney was convicted and fined $180. 

She was still at school and was given a year to pay it off. 

But in November that year, no doubt enjoying the end of what had become an arduous grind through high school, she was nabbed with a couple of ecstasy pills. 

A young Courtney Herron (right) frolics in the trees with her friend Kalinda Brown (left). Courtney had struggled at school with bullies, but made some life-long friends

Courtney Herron and her little sister enjoy the sunshine down at St Kilda during one of the area's many market days. Courtney had loved to take selfies with her and they were making a scrap book together. Courtney's body was found about 16kms away from where she posed for this photo 

The magistrate gave her a rap across the knuckles and gave her a chance to escape conviction on a six month diversion plan. 

Under the plan, which ordinarily run for a year, offenders are not required to enter into formal pleas and do not have criminal convictions recorded under their names.

Her mother said it was a kick in the pants her daughter needed.  

'In year 12 she was free falling. Then this diversion thing came in and changed her life. It showed who she was: a capable, smart, loving girl in a work environment,' Maxie said. 

While on the program she got some work with the Department of Health and Human Services Victoria, which Courtney embraced. 

She hoped it would lead to full-time work, but something went wrong. 

Courtney's mum has claimed the stain on her criminal record was to blame for her failing to secure employment there.  

The diversion was discharged in the Heidelburg Magistrates' Court a little over a month before it was due to expire. 

High profile criminal lawyer George Balot said a diversion was 'the most merciful outcome' available to magistrates in dealing with accused persons charged with low level criminal offending.

'A recurring problem with a diversion order is that whilst the diversion is pending, the accused is not yet discharged, hence were an employer to obtain a criminal record check during the period of the diversion, it will disclose that the charges are pending,' he said. 'It is often prudent not to order a criminal record check during the course of the diversion program.' 

For Courtney, it was too late. 

The checks were made, the job was lost and she got a taste of a justice system that would become sadly familiar to her.

FALLING THROUGH THE CRACKS 

The teenager's story until then had been like many who pass through the doors of Melbourne's criminal courts.

Judges, lawyers and even reporters have seen countless Courtney Herrons processed through Victoria's revolving door justice system.

Good kids from good families who for one reason or another wind up on drugs and into a legal system that has both hands tied by Victoria's under resourced and inadequate mental health, welfare and housing system.

Sometimes they wind up dead.

Henry Hammond, a 27-year-old homeless man, has been charged with Courtney's murder.

A fresh-faced Courtney Herron - red bow in hair and ready to take on the world. She had her ups and downs during her short life and was determined to make something of herself

An image of Courtney Herron put out by Victoria Police after her body was found brutally bashed to death at a park just outside of Melbourne's CBD. Her last few years on earth had not been kind and her ending was even worse 

That original setback at school had sent Courtney on a collision course with disaster, her mum said. 

'That was a huge knock,' she said.  'The people she worked with said, "Don’t give up, you are so capable". She loved it, and she wanted to do community work and a diploma in housing but then the demon friends came in.'

Those demon friends saw Courtney guided into the grip of the scourge of methylamphetamine - the deadly drug ice. 

Over the next few years she became lost in Melbourne's seedy underbelly, living with mates and using drugs. 

Her mum would ring her daughter's mates and trawl Facebook for signs of life, but it is hard to find someone who does not want to be found. 

'When we knew she was in a psychosis, I would beg dealers. I said, "I don’t care, I’m not interested in dobbing you in". I would say, "Tell me what street" and would go pick her up. I just wanted to get her help,' Maxie said. 

By Maxie's own account, intervention orders had been put into place, which restricted what, if anything, she could do for her troubled daughter anyway. 

BEGINNING OF THE END 

Then, in 2015, Courtney met Ahmet Ozkurt and fell madly in love. 

Under his care, Courtney began to get clean but before they had the chance to marry, the Kurdish refugee from Turkey was taken into a detention centre after complications with his visa. 

Courtney was again shattered and blamed herself because he missed the appointment for his visa renewal.

She made it her mission to save him, but it was one that drove her further into the pits of despair and back into the drug's lair.  

Henry Hammond, a 27-year-old homeless man, has been charged with Courtney's murder. Much is known about his history, but cannot be reported for legal reasons

By 2017, Courtney was in the pits. 

On the day of her 23rd birthday she was sprung shoplifting and arrested. 

Less than two weeks later the still learner driver was caught driving an unregistered vehicle, without L plates, and allegedly in possession of stolen goods. 

It is likely she spent time in the police jailhouse cells before being released. 

The possession charge was ultimately dismissed and on July 23 last year she was released again on a good behaviour bond without conviction. 

She was ordered to undergo 'treatment' until December 19 that year and appeared to comply with the order - at least to the court's satisfaction. 

HER FINAL DAYS 

The last time her family had contact with Courtney was at Greek Easter - April 28 - this year, when her grandmother visited her at the Austin hospital. 

Courtney had earlier fled her grandmother's home in the dead of night and had cut off communication with her mum. 

People claimed they had seen Courtney sleeping rough in an alleyway known to be held by territorial homeless men. 

She had reportedly been at a party with the man accused of killing her on the night she died.

Courtney's grandmother was this week seen wailing over the site her precious grand daughter was allegedly beaten to death. 

It was a harrowing vision for all whom witnessed it. 

Courtney's father, a lawyer, has remained mostly silent about his role in his daughter's life. 

'It's just very difficult. I can barely speak about it,' he told Daily Mail Australia.

THE MEAN STREETS 

In an interview with The Project, Courtney's friend Jessica Bateman said she had 'worried immensely' that something horrible would happen to her. 

'She was couch surfing and when she couldn’t find a friend to couch surf with, she’d spend nights in parks — the park that she was discovered in,' Ms Bateman said. 

'She knew that her family loved her, but she wasn’t in touch with them. It was very, if you will, sporadic.'

Ms Bateman knew Courtney was using drugs, but the thought of getting off them terrified her friend. 

'She was trying to get into public housing, she was trying to get onto methadone or something that would stop the withdrawal symptoms that she was going to face — and the fear of withdrawal is what really kept her using,' she said.  

While the guilt of the man accused of murdering Courtney will play out in court, many believe they already know what really killed her. 

Throwing their hands into the air and seemingly asking God to respond, family of the 25-year old made their way to Royal Park on Monday

A lonely spot to die: The body of Courtney Herron was found bloody and beaten between these logs. It is a lonely and cold spot off the beaten track. Courtney's life had been tough and her ending was anything but happy

A BROKEN SYSTEM 

The ignorant have declared it her own fault for using drugs. 

But a more complex truth lies at the heart of this tragedy - one that many believe will not be solved until at least another generation is at the helm of those that control society. 

Donna Stolzenberg, from the National Homeless Collective, said the reality of life for people like Courtney was grim. 

'The system is so broken and it does not help people with drug problems. We don't have enough housing stock for people. There are people on waiting lists for years and years and years,' she said. 

'Transitional housing is meant to be for 12 months, but we can't move people forward because it bottlenecks and there is no housing stock to move them ... People aren't getting help for drugs, they're not getting housing and it's nobody's problem. 

'Nobody is taking ownership of it. Local government will tell you it's state government and they'll say it's federal government's problem. Everyone passes the buck because the outcome won't happen on their watch.'

Ms Stolzenberg said in the two major parties in the last federal election failed to have a policy on homelessness.