Author’s
Note: This is like a sort of murder mysterty sort of thing I wrote up.
For Writing Circles, we had to write something dark and mysterious. I
chose that murder mystery kind of short story. It’s just a piece of the
story, like only the beggining of a long tale...
A
man pounded on our door demanding I open the door. I looked out to see
an unfamiliar man wearing all black, with his face concealed. I did the
only thing I could think of. I ran with all my might and shut myself in
the bedroom. From there I heard the garage door opening. I thought of my
father. Turning back around, I went to the garage and fumbled with the
door knob, screaming for my dad. Instead, I found a man identical to the
one in the front door. The next thing I knew, my blood splattered onto
the tile flooring and I was crawling to find my father. I heard a thump
and my vision went blurry. I screamed. Utter terror and realization
cursed through my body. I shook like a leaf as I tumbled across the
cold, damp floor. I heard the men pound up the stairs. Then another man
entered and I regonized his voice as my father’s. He ran over to me and
placed a blanket over my wounds and whispered everything would be
alright and hid me under the desk up against the wall. Father ran
upstairs after the men and I heard gunshots ring through the air.
Everything. Went. Black.
