he lights flashing red, blue, and white, blinding my eyes. Alarms surrounding me in all directions, trapped. Dogs barking, cries was heard over a mile away. My heart pounding as I wondered into town, taking long strides. The smoke hitting my nose, scrunching my face up in disgust. Dumpsters overflowing with trash, the roads covered in mud, tire marks engraved into it. The streets began to be crowded with men and women going in all sorts of direction, stares grazing my back, wishing they would stop. Covering myself, teeth chattering against the tune of the winter breeze. The winter breath making contact against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
As I turned and made my way down the alleyway, The only noise heard was my worn out sneakers
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It was already nightfall and I was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea to go through the back roads. I stopped and I turned around, only to be met by an unfamiliar face. "a pretty girl like you, shouldn't be out alone at this time of night, let me give you a ride?" he asked me.I ignored him and continued walking. He must be out of his mind as if I'm going to go anywhere with him, I don't even know him, he could be a murderer for all I know. "come on, it's 11:47, you don't wanna catch a cold do you?". "I'm fine", I said as coldly as the wind. "are you", I cut him off and snapped "just get a life and leave me alone". He then began to proceed towards me and my heart began to pound at the speed of light. Panic began to take over me and I started running, the adrenaline was coursing through my veins, I ran into the forest, through the trees, flying over the logs. I tripped over a root that was sticking out and landed face …show more content…
His large, intimidating figure, the black dishevelled hair, the only thing we have in common are our eyes, both grey, inherited by our mother. Snapping back to reality, "Dear brother, seriously kidnapping me, I better add that to the list of reasons on why I hate you", i replied. "sister, knowing you, you wouldn't have come willingly", I was trying to control the anger building up in me, oh all I wanna do is go up to him and smack that smirk off his face but I'd properly be dead, eh it's worth it. "mum's dead", seriously Ronaldo, seriously you think I care about that witch, after what she did to me. I felt numb after he mentioned her, "I give my condolences" I said coldly. "you give your condolences, seriously that's all you could say!" his outburst, hardly surprised me. "okay then, I give my deepest condolences", I replied sarcastically. He then put a bitter smirk on "do you remember, what father said about the deal between him and Anthony Peterson", "yeah and", "congratulations Bella, your getting married", my eyes widened and my mouth dropped, Oh God, this isn't supposed to happen, no, no,
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
The sentencing of underage criminals has remained a logistical and moral issue in the world for a very long time. The issue is brought to our perspective in the documentary Making a Murderer and the audio podcast Serial. When trying to overcome this issue, we ask ourselves, “When should juveniles receive life sentences?” or “Should young inmates be housed with adults?” or “Was the Supreme Court right to make it illegal to sentence a minor to death?”. There are multiple answers to these questions, and it’s necessary to either take a moral or logical approach to the problem.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
out of her head endlessly. It was a sight to see. Who would have ever
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
She informed me that Nick Nawn, sitting here, was having an affair with Sussi that lasted up until the day she was murdered…” As Victoria was saying this Cameron Had a look of shock, despair, and hate towards Nick but Victoria carried on not caring about the emotional state Cameron was in. “… She had given me Nick’s Number and I called him up and explained to me that he was indeed with Sussi the night of the murder and was there when she was murdered by someone ‘behind a mask a gruff voice trying to disguise itself’. I then
Valentina Kureyev wanted to spit. The police detective was furious and far beyond what might be termed disgusted. Pensively, she rubbed her hand along her jaw and frowned.
Homicide. To a detective it was the worst kind of crime, and not just because it led to tons of paperwork. Homicide’s were often easy to solve because it was so hard to cover up. DNA is everywhere, blood splatters, getting rid of the body, witnesses. There was so many variables and things always tended to go wrong.
I was 13 at the time and had just gotten an electric scooter. One day as I was riding around my neighborhood, which is relatively safe, I noticed two construction workers next to a white van staring at me. I didn't think much of it as there was a lot of construction going on at the time. As I was riding I took a bad fall and landed on my head causing my forehead to bleed.
I swiftly began making my way towards the exit of the catacombs, praying I’d be forgiven for the great sin I just committed. What if someone had realized Fortunato was missing and listed me as a suspect? Would they figure out I had brought him to the catacombs this night and trapped him inside? No, surely that couldn’t happen. Even if they discovered Fortunato was missing, how could they link his disappearance towards myself?
John heard gunshots so he ran downstairs and he saw his grandparents lying on The ground. ” Grandma, grandpa!” he called 911. “This is an emergency come quickly, as quick as you can!” John was really upset he couldn’t wait so he ran away from home.
Months pasted like days, hours as minutes for learning of this world was rather nostalging to the point he didn't want to be alive. His own other self had died and lost as he, with almost no drive for what to do, he simply wait for hunger to kill him. * Scream * The alarm awoke his mental state as he heard a cry that could be of help.
Pleased to have protected the crime scene so diligently, George watched in horror as O'Shea urged his horses up almost to the body, then wheeled the vehicle round to deposit his passengers alongside it. McGuire and Murray alighted from the cab and looked at the body. A vast mass of flies buzzed over it; it smelled; there was a massive wound in the back of the head and a pool of dried blood beside it. "This man has been murdered," exclaimed Murray unnecessarily. Even the flies understood that.
It was a warm summer evening, and a cool breeze brushed across the meadows as the setting sun painted a brilliant array of lights across the grassy fields. The air was nice, not too humid and not too dry, but an area in between where one would consider staying out all night. The sun was fading into the horizon when a young man walked down a dirt path to his small, but well kept farm. He wore plain clothes, a straw hat, jeans, and a dirty button down shirt. He was nothing special, just an average farmer.
...en a strange feeling down his spine again, as if something was breathing on his neck. He turned slowly… seeing if someone was behind him and then boom! The figure was right there, about seven feet away, trying to grab him with his big, skinny, hands, with his sharp and dark fingernails that could rip a man’s heart out… He fell down, so surprised by the strange figure.