Creative Writing: The Park Street Murder

To say Park Street was ordinary would have been an understatement. It was conventional, lacking even the slightest bit of interest to cause for contrast. A street you could walk down 20 times and still not be able to distinguish from the others. Imagine an almost stereotypical neighbourhood and then I’ve saved you a trip. The street was so typical that even the name of it was a commonity. So you can only imagine the appall when a murderer was born right in it’s midst.

The street was awoken on a cool November night, I say awoken not because the murder occurred in the night but because the street had been asleep for years. See, there is a certain accustomation that people grow used to, a sense of comfort that leaves them almost senseless. It

That was the first sign to the people of Park Street that something had gone terribly wrong, police are more often than not associated with bad news (and Park Street had never been one to disturb trends). The ambulance came four minutes after the cop cars had, and the fire truck two after that. Though I’d like to stress the four minutes that the police had alone on that crime scene. Whether you’d prefer to call it crunch time, or golden hour, or even something as absurd as magical minutes. This was it. This was the four minutes that would make or break the case, these minutes were going to be told and retold and resold and then reused so many times within the next month that it would be engraved into their brains forever, and though I can’t be entirely sure I feel it’s safe to say that these minutes were probably to be the height of all the officers

The police had noticed the crouched figure when they first turned into the street, the figure, too small to be male had initially seemed broken in all sense of the term. Limbs jarring out in curious places as the body trembled hunching itself into an even smaller position. As the police vehicles neared, much more of the crime scene became apparent. The feeble woman was hunched over a figure that the police were safe to assume was a body, the body had left a pool of blood panning about a half a meter in all directions. Both the woman and the body were covered in the blood, the woman was also covered in a fair amount of vomit. As she saw the police cars near she seemed to break into a whole new level of hysteria, vomit making a new appearance as her stomach released it’s contents once again. The woman’s silent cries had changed into an almost howl as she yelled into the