Skarii wrote:Story (you may provide a link, or just write your story in this space):
Cold NewYork
The air was crisp as it was hitting my face. This rather cold Sunday morning would be the day Savanah Graham died. (Earlier) Hi, I am Adia Welsh, a writer, a teenager, and a photographer. :Yawn:, I rip off my soft blanket like a band-aid and torpidly head down stairs. "Ah a healthy breakfast" I mutter sarcastically. Then I pour myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes and devour it. It gets boring living alone, no one is ever here besides me. No one is there to comfort you if you get scared, no one to make meals for you, do your laundry, do chores, etc. I throw on a big sweatshirt and put my shoes on, then walk out the front door, into the "world". I stroll around the neighborhood that seems to be deserted. How come no one was out here? Usually there are people walking their dogs, going on a stroll with their family, or doing some sort of activity. it was now 1:00 P.M and people's windows were shut and covered. I check my phone and find the reason. "Savanah Graham's body was just found washed up alongside Hudson River" (Posted at 11:00 A.M) My tears drip onto the vivid screen, I clutch my phone and race home. Once I am home I think about how that barely had explained why everyone was behaving so unusal... I read the entire paragraph. Apparently, the murder has not yet been found and he is still on the loose. I keep scrolling and it shows a poorly drawn sketch of the man. (News Site) Description: Piercing blue eyes, blonde eyebrows, scar under left eye, last seen: Unknown.) The thought of a killer loose weighs my mind. I shut off the phone and bright glimmering screen goes black. I get up from my couch and go shut and lock my windows, cover my windows, lock all doors, and just to be safe a put a chair under the knob of the door. I feel numb. I sit down on my couch and begin to sob. "She's gone... Gone and she can't come back" Savanah and I were cheerleaders, and tight friends. Anger rose up in me and I felt like a was in a deep dark void, screaming but no one could hear me. :Beep: My phone made a small beep, meaning I was getting a notification. I check to see what it is, the News Website. I unlock the phone and see what has updated. (News) New found location and name for Savanah's muderer. Name: James Brant. Last known location: Bushwick, Brooklyn, NY.) The phone slid out of my hands, onto the shaggy carpet. I was frozen in fear, stuck in the void.
I. Live. In. Bushwick... Distant police sirens start screaming in the streets, I bolt to my bed room and shove myself into my closet. I'm burrying my face into my knees, quietly panicing, softly screaming, and wondering... Is this it? Am I going to die? Why Bushwick? I realize the name James Brant sounds familiar. I get lost in my thoughts for a while and then I hear intense pounding on the door. I start shaking vigirously, too afraid to move. More pounding. Pound. Pound. Pound. My heart was beating along with the door. I shakily un-coil and crawl to the front door. Another pound, I almost fall over. I peel up the cover just a tiny bit to see... Just a police. I stand up, still terified. (Police) "Hi mam, I'm just here to ask a few questions" I nod my head and gesture him to come in. He sits down on the couch and a bring him a cup of water. (Police) "So, have you seen anything strange lately, maybe the past three hours" " Uh... No sir. Only the news..." "Alright. Did you have any connection with-" " Savanah? Yes, we were on the cheerleading team, she was one of my close friends" Tears start to fill of up my eyes as he hastily writes down the information. Drip. Drip. Drip. The conversation goes on for another 20 minutes then he finally leaves. (Three weeks later) Savanah's name had barely been mentioned, was I the only one who still misses her? I was getting ready for another dreadful day of school when I hear gunshots. My heart drops to my toes and I get down on my knees to curl up in a ball. Drip. Drip. Drip. My tears slap against the cold kitchen tile. I slowly inch closer to my bathroom. I crawl inside my bathtub. James Brant. James Brant. The name tightened around my brain like an elastic band. JAMES BRANT. James Brant lives in my neighborhood! (FlashBack to when I first moved in) (James) "Hi welcome to the neighborhood, I'm James." "Hi James. I'm Adia.") That was all I could remember. More shots. Bang. Bang. I can hear screaming in the background. Then, out of no where, I stood up and ran to the kitchen. I grabbed the largest knife and approached my door. What was I doing? I stopped at the door and looked down at my hands. I gripped the knife firmly, but my hands were still shaking , because I was
terrified. I cautiously twist the knob and slide out the door. It's chaos, police men behind their cars, using their guns as a façade, mothers frantically running around, and me, I just want him
dead. How do people just live with the fact that their is a killer on the loose? Face it. Police are doing nothing to help the situation, do why shouldn't I? Who am I to just sit around and cry when my friend was murdered? I am done being scared. Done being helpless. Where is James? Did he flee the scene? I wandered around for a bit, observing what was happening. Police men were attending and questioning, ambulances' sirens are so loud, I can barely hear my own thoughts. What do I do? :Sigh: He was gone. I start heading home and my invisible super hero cape disappears. Suddenly I hear muffled cries for help, I rush over to an alley. James. He was threatening some poor innocent women. I clenched my knife and screamed to get his attention, the knife was behind my back. He charged towards me, I was getting scared. No. I had to. I can't just let him continue to do this. As he runs towards to tackle me, I swiftly retrieve the knife. He was so close to me for that split second. I stab him. The knife slides into his skin. What have I done? The right thing, I did the right thing. I tell myself over and over. I pull the knife out from his neck. I stand there, his blood dripping onto the concrete in cold New York. That's all folks
Fanfiction or Made-up? (if you do a fanfiction, please tell me what it's based on): Made-Up
Which prompt did you go with?: College/Murder
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