The crisp fall air in New York City was surprisingly clear, the trees in Central Park were a kaleidoscope of vibrant oranges, reds, and purple. A 30-something man wearing a gray color-coordinated sweat suit with earbuds in, steam spewing from his heavy breathing, plodded along the water’s edge. A stopped suddenly mid stride, hunches forward, placing his hands on his knees, he starts shaking his head. Less than 10 feet away lay a pale, man dressed in a fitted suit laying contorted, face down along the trail’s edge. Is he dead? ear Gapstow bridge.The jogger Kevin, screamed hysterically, “Hello, are you okay?!!” There was no answer. He called 911, Offices came quickly in swiftly. Sirens could be heard miles away the bright flashing lights …show more content…
The body was transported to the medical examiner's office, Rigor mortis placed time of death around 6:30 pm last night. The puncture wound at the side of neck started to turn purple(,The injection mark about .7mm large located and injected directly into the jugular vein, confirmed by a pneumothorax a common symptom with juggar vein injections. Blood samples were taken to identify the unknown compound that killed Dr. George Huxley. Detective Green Briskly walked in to a large highrise as a doorman kindly opened the door for her. She was entering the residence of Dr.Huxley. Green went to the front desk where the concierge gave her the keys to the Huxleys 16th floor apartment and pointed at the towards the elevator. Inside the elevator was a elderly woman with short white curly hair wearing bright pastel colors, pushing the button labeled 16 a neighbor? Wondered Green. Green introduced herself to the woman named Gladys who live across from the victim. “So Did you know Dr.Huxley?” “Not really he was a busy man always working, He works as a doctor did you know that? OH yeah down on Lenox Hill Hospital, George kept to himself mostly a very kind …show more content…
Dna from your skin cells as Huxley fought you off were found underneath his fingernails,Hand prints were found in his bedroom apartment IS TRASHED bedroom apartment may I just added not to mention you just tried to flee the State? The country perhaps” silence radiated from Dr.Hofstadter her eyes grew cloudy Green continued “ We found Huxley's un-published breakthrough treatments in your carry on in your car YOU were going to pass the research as your own and get all the credit weren't you!” “FINE, I did it! I killed him I helped him with that research he barely did a thing I was all Me i'm the smart one behind it all I would have gotten NO credit NONE” tears streamed down Dr.Hofstadter face, sobbing filled the room “It not fair I had to kill him it was the only for people to see the really me I'm the best doctor and I get paid the least, I do everything the research was going to make me rich put me on the medical map I could have even be good enough to transfer out of that inadequate hospital and transfer to john hopkins I could have been the
I also don't own the idea, it was requested to me by the wonderful Amanda. Thank you so much! I hope I did this idea justice.
At the same time: Snap-Whoosh-Growl-Snap-Whoosh-Growl! Return with a fierceness, causing the rest of the men to separate into two groups with some moving to the left in search of the origin of the beastly sounds and the others moving to the right, combining their numbers with those searching for their missing brethren, while Gottlieb stays behind.
Celie believes she has no power or say against her father and the choices he makes for her. Alfonso begins to talk about choosing a husband for Celie because he has grown tired of her and is ready to get rid of her. Alfonso also gets bored with his wife, and starts to gravitate toward his younger daughter Nettie again. Celie offers herself to Alfonso in an attempt to save her sister. Alfonso accepts her offers and has sex with her instead of Nettie, while his new wife is sick. Alfonso uses Celie for sex tries and in an attempt to turn the other girls against her he badmouths her and says that she’s a bad influence. He says Celie "ain 't fresh" (isn 't a virgin) and that she is “spoiled” Alfonso sees women as objects and once they have been
I packed my things into a small U-Haul. We were leaving the town I had always known, Houston, to go someplace I barely knew, a small town named Navasota. We moved when I was four because my parents wanted us to experience a small town like they had grown up in. Would I find new friends? Would the people there like me?
It’s quite unfortunate that I get into the situations that I do. We went and visited the man on Howard Avenue today to collect the $10 dollars, and Lorraine doesn’t even want to cash the check! He will surely know that the L & J fund isn’t real if we just dispose of it. He invited us to the zoo tomorrow, and I suppose we will have to have to go, as some form of forgiveness for stealing money from old people. We didn’t really steal it though. He gave it to us. Then again, I suppose fraud is considered a sin anyway, so that leads me back to the zoo thing. Lorraine hates zoos, but they don’t even mean enough to me to even bother hating them. It’s just something that’s always been there, and I’ve never really given them much thought before. Kind
“Ugh.” I muttered, staring at the ceiling of our little cave. There were cars crossing every second, ready to fall through and smoosh us like the penny on the train track, and I traced their imaginary path across the metal and cement with my eyes. “I know I said it first, but I don’t want to talk about the next generation. Our generation is still the next generation, and I really don’t want that to change. I want us to always be the next generation.” I bit my lip and watched the shadow of Carter walking off to piss into the stream. My voice dropped until I was whispering, hiding my words from the echoes of The Cut. "I wish, when somebody wrote the story of my life, it actually had a plot. You know? With an enemy and a beginning, and an end. You know... interesting. But it's just us,
I woke up to her strong hands clasped tightly around my throat. My eyes shot open and there she was. Her blue eyes, wide and wild, were full of anger and resentment, burning a hole right through me. I desperately gasped for air, I didn’t bother trying to defend myself, because I knew that wouldn’t go down well. Unfortunately, this situation was all too familiar to me. Isn’t it sad that she was the one who once cuddled me when I had a bad dream, and now she is the reason I can’t sleep at night? Isn’t it sad that the person who is supposed to keep me safe is the person I fear most? “Where’d you put them!” She yelled, her familiar, liquor-scented breath hit my face. “Where’d you put my cigarettes Nina? I know you took
IT WAS MIDNIGHT by the time that I had returned from school. School had finished late, but not that it mattered. No one was waiting for me. I looked at the front door, something was different, something was amiss. I slowly opened the door, perhaps someone had come to visit.
the dreams of your sleep can't be remembered, but endless nightmares always lurk within. 'The Nightmare'. It's a disease , no one and no thing can interfere it. The silence is always a sign. Deep thoughts and worries are also symptoms. It's contagious, but it can scar you for the afterlife. All of your body gets infected. The brain is the first stop. It leaves you feeling solitary. Lonely .Death toll, all of us. We've faced it before, but some of us just don't know how to get over the addiction. This is my disease. My fear. My suffering.
Infection. The snare 9:09am- The bus is making that clanking noise again, clank, clank, clank. I didn’t get much sleep last night because of that stupid science report. I don’t even think I did it right anyway, but I don’t care, as long as I pass it doesn’t matter.
"Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste." Rolling Stones - Sympathy for the Devil Well, I'm neither a man or wealthy and have questionable taste, but this is what comes to mind when I'm asked who I am! I usually end up blurbing something garbled, and laughing strangely before trailing off into awkward silence. This my friends, is why I write.
Beginning in New York at Central Park, men and women went on with their daily lives and routines before being hit with a gust of wind accompanied by an altered mental state with profound confusion and short term memory. Victims lost memory of where they were, who they were and what they were doing. After confusion hit, a scream is heard by all and the most severe symptom occurred; suicide. A sensation to murder oneself that was so deep and overpowering,
Early on an August morning, Dr. Armstrong was tending to his lab as he did every morning. He organized his tools in a manner in which he thought suitable for his own needs, he swept the floors, as well as sanitizing his work station where he performed most of his research and experiments. The room was very gray with one single window that let little light into the room, there was no other means of light in the room except one long light above his examination table and a single desk lamp he kept in the corner of the room. There was a metal desk on one side of the room with a computer and many files on it, on the other side of the room separated by a glass wall, was a stainless steal table, and many instruments the doctor used. The doctor
The Edge is a cracking clay pot. Flowers of red and golden lillies lay on lavender roses. The cold wind blows softly as if to caresss the flowers. Down below the patchey Edge is an abyss, dark and haunting. The site of it leaves me feeling daring,and impulsive.
I was washing the dishes when this boy, Paco, that worked with me and was a couple of years younger, played with a napkin. He moved, then turned as if he was in an arena in front of a bull. He seemed to enjoy the game, yet he took it very seriously. I could not help but smile looking at him. “How is the bull?”