A Suburbian Murder

The pearl white pigeon glided into the open window bringing with it the stenches of central London traffic. It cocked its head to one side while perched on the windowsill, as if in limbo. The blonde, wavy haired boy lay, sprawled out on his bed. His eyelids twitched as his dark eyes attempted to adjust to the ferocious rays of sunlight flooding the room. No sooner did he lift his heads. Then the black monster blared excruciatingly from across the room forcing him to summon the will power to trudge along and slap the alarm on the head, silencing it for a further twenty four hours. What day was it? He didn’t care. Each day was the same and he couldn’t tell the difference. He felt something.

He walked outside into the cool breezing, looking upwards towards the day with a large smirk in his face. He was quite young, about in his late twenties, tall and relatively thin. He had a certain style of clothing, wearing a white polo shirt, with jeans of a faded blue colour. He had no facial hair and his hair was flipped upwards, his green sparkling eyes reflected from the stunning sun like a diamond.

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He started to shiver. He stopped. He stood guard, glancing very sharply at them. Thunder screamed! And the burning intense weather died away. The shell spinning around had ripped his life. He hid panicking, wondering who it was? Why? Will someone help? Did he see me? Am I going to die? Out of the blue, tires screeched and the speeding car drove away into the gloomy night its number plate half out of its position, streaks of mud on the cars bright headlights and fresh mud falling off the bumper. He unleashed his face from the dark and ran fast as possible to shelter. He had just witnessed a hideous murder.

The fluorescent moon shone beams of darkness through the condensed window into the minute aura of evil; he could not terminate the appalling judgment of the revolting murder, his head was spinning due to the puzzle thoughts of what he would do subsequently. He couldn’t bring the images of the ruthless murder to an end as it repeated in his distressed mind. Having watched his only family murdered, he could not eject the sensation of the evil thought of his brother being murdered! The door rang; it was the policemen, come around asking questions about the death of his late brother. Having asked firm and draining questions they had still no suspects or any set offs with the murder connecting towards the murderer, they had no choice but to close the case. The one and only time he needed help and he was turned down.

After a short ineffective period of nap the door bell rang yet again, this time it was Andrew his brother’s superlative pal. He had heard the news of the harsh murder and had come to give his wishes and support. He felt a bit rickety and had many large breaks in-between sentences as though he was hiding something. My suspicions grew larger and I too started to feel in-secure. It seemed he was in a hurry so I walked him to the door. My heart started to beat faster, my hands flooded as sweat was unleashed from the palms of my hands, I became breathless as my lungs felt compressed. I could not believe that my eyes were telling me the truth. The same old car with the same old broken number plate could it be he murdered my loving brother I was bolt from the blue and I knew what to do for the sake of my beloved brother .

Just before the ice blood curdling night I waited. Sitting on an old rusty tree like a dull owl. I got out a blood thirsty razor sharp knife grasping to be used. I glanced at it and saw a sharp reflection of myself. Its face was shivering; it could its tired and strained face bearing the marks of harsh warfare. Then suddenly the chilly air spun around him like a smooth python trying to suffocate it. He sat back in stress. Thunder screamed! And the house awoke sending out a large breeze, he could sense the presence of his foe. The bleak chilly air had died away and then the vigorous rain was unleashed from the jet black sky and he was ready to make his move.

The black car drove into the driveway. The number plate half out of its position, streaks of mud on cars head lights, fresh mud falling off the bumper. He walked towards the door wearing a white striped suit. His hair was wet and flat from the rain he had no facial hair but wore glasses. He was very muscular and also had a mole on his right cheek and looked quite similar to his brother.

His jingles of keys fell as he ran towards his house for shelter from the rain, he kneeled he paused; Thunder screamed! He pulled it! The shell spinning around had ripped his life. He fell back thinking who it was? Why? Will someone help? Am I going to die? The predator walked up towards its prey as he was raising his hands for help, he unleashed his face from the dark.

The atmosphere drew a sigh as the trigger was pulled and a bullet was released again. The cold blooded killer dragged the deceased into the cold shivering pool of chlorine water and left it to drown. He packed his carnage weapon and removed the traces of his presence. The storm cried away leaving a romantic dark pitch sky with bright glowing stars. He walked home having justice for his brother and now his best mate was dead at last!

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Sarah
Danielle
Wilson
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