Crazy Story I Wrote...
<div class="IPBDescription">tell me what you think</div> Well, i did this story for an english project, tell me what you think.
“As I walked, the streetlights flickered as the rain came down like the heavens were falling. No longer were they content with the acts of that night. There in the alleyway an old dilapidated fire escape ladder looked like it wanted an excuse to fall more than the building it was attached to. The rain funneled down the center of the alleyway into the sewer, where the corpse laid.
The corpse wore a soiled black trench coat with no waist tie. The man, on the other hand, wore this waist tie, tightly around his neck. The man’s pants were black as well, however soaked from the heavy night of rainfall. On his feet were men’s running shoes; they were nice shoes, which looked that they were brand new as of that day. Beside him laid a baseball cap, the cap didn’t have any writing on it, just red.
Flipping him over I saw a gash along his lifeless face that might of led to his demise. I looked up from the scene and I noticed a blood stain on the cast iron grating of an old exit door that had been dead bolted on the outside, so no one could get in, or out for that matter. Above the door flickered a neon light that illuminated the alley with its callous glow. The writing of the light said “Sal’s” which was a rundown nightclub for the vicious underworld of this ‘fair’ city. The regulars at this bar were nothing more than the bottom of the barrel as it comes to for human beings, not a decent one in the entire scrubby lot.
I got up and walked over to the barred door, I felt the blood, and it was still wet, like most things on that night. I glanced back at the corpse, hoping that it wouldn’t be there, unfortunately, I wasn’t that lucky. His still open eyes glanced up as the heavens fell upon him. So that’s when I called in to¼”
I couldn’t listen anymore. The man on the stand was speaking a rehearsed testimony, and I knew it smelled funny. I could have cared, but for some reason I didn’t. After everything I went through to get that snake in here, he was probably going to walk. That was what really made me mad. I couldn’t sit there and listen to that lying worm anymore.
I got up quietly and walked out of the courtroom, after the door closed behind me, I took a deep breath and looked outside. The sky hung low, like it was about to give out. The clouds as black as the night, moved silently and without hindrance throughout the sky. Might as well walk, it’ll be good for me.
I opened up the door to the courthouse and the foul reeking air struck me like a huge weight. I opened my eyes and saw the cityscape; the high towers seemed to reach on forever into the blackness of the day. I started down the stairs and looked away from the bums, the homeless and the peddlers. Their begging always got to me, like that drip in the night in when you’re trying to sleep. I looked at the ground, thinking of a time that was better, when I actually inspired to make a difference. That was a long time ago, almost too long to remember if I had made a difference or not. What had changed?
I walked more blocks through the progressively repulsive city, each second I spent in it made me sick to my stomach. I felt no longer in control; I left that once bright and inspiring side of myself a long time ago. Where it was now, was anyone’s guess.
I finally made it to my apartment, once the beacon of light in my life, now just another ratty place. After she left me the place lost its shimmer. She took the kids too, even though they hate her as much as I do. Funny how the courts work¼ I guess it wasn’t meant to be, her being six years younger than I was and all. Oh well, I’m not losing any sleep over it.
I wasn’t lucky enough to get in the door without something happening. Over to the left beside this tree, which had been struck by lighting sometime earlier that year and had subsequently burnt, there was some sort of scrap happening. There were two guys, kicking this other guy like there was no tomorrow. I got a good look at the two that were laying the beating, one wore a green jacket with some sort of writing on the arm, and a pare of jeans, really wore down, like he had been doing the sort of thing, beating people, for a long time. The other guy was bald, he wore some sort of army camo trench coat and army pants.
I began walking towards the fight, with my hand grasped on my gun, which was inside my coat. I was just about to put an end to the fight but right then a voice inside me said “No”. I stopped abruptly and made a commotion while doing it, the two beaters stopped and stared up at me, I got a really good look, like a camera went off in my head, two faces I’ll never forget.
I stood there looking on, the two looking back at me. Something inside me told me to do nothing and I listened. It made sense, the first thing that had made sense in a long while. The victim of the attack was lying on the ground, one arm on his chest, grasping his bloodless wounds, and the other reaching out for help. His head was arched back looking at me; in his eyes I saw desperation, almost like the absence inside me.
I stepped backwards, breaking eye contact with the fiends and turned away, I think in the back of my mind I might of heard ‘help me’, but I wasn’t listening. I walked into my apartment building, and got on the elevator. Listening to that repetitive music made me think of better times. Times where everything was normal, and I led a normal life. I had a lot of friends back then, but none of those ‘friends’, talked to me anymore. I couldn’t tell you why they didn’t talk to me but, that seemed like a time long ago, when everything was different, and I was happy.
The apartment wasn’t as nice as it used to be. The walls now had water stains on them from the time when the poor fool upstairs decided to kill himself with the toaster in a bathtub full of water. The rest of the place was your standard two-room apartment. Walking into the kitchen, it was cramped and smelt of bacon, all the time, the dim flicking fluorescent light was above, the stove looked like it came from hell and back, twice. Outside of the kitchen was a table with four chairs around it; on top of the table were two glasses and a plate of food from the night before. Looking over I can see the living room, TV and a couch with a painting above it. The painting was nothing in particular; it was a solid red background with a splash of black in the bottom right corner.
Walking over to the couch I picked up the converter and turned on the TV. It flickered on with the warm glow that could mean only relaxation. I sat down on the couch and watched. The news came on, the top story of that night was how that dirty snake got off, I just knew it would happen. All my work I had done, meant nothing now, the evidence I collected over the weeks of that investigation meant nothing, nothing. I turned off the TV, I was furious. I could do nothing however, nothing at all. I sat on the couch and dozed off.
I got up from the comforting couch and put on my burdening coat and began to walk slowly. I knew where I was going, but I didn’t want to go. I was going to the crime scene, the place where I put my time in, investigating. I shuffled across block after block of gloomy cityscape. The darkness was not only above, but also everywhere now.
Finally I stopped, right there, in front of Sal’s bar, the neon light out front signaled this with the glow that was so sharp it could pierce through anything, even one’s soul. The front windows were boarded up with plywood and I could here the music pulsating from inside. In front of the door, there was a bloodstain that didn’t look more than a couple days old. The blood seemed to run out the club like a living being. Continuing down the side of the club I came to the alleyway.
I scanned the alley with a watchful eye. I walked in slowly; it was just like how the ‘innocent’ described it. I walked to the barred door; the blood from the murder hadn’t been cleaned off yet and had stained itself on the iron bars. It was never coming off, a grim reminder of what happened that night. I had no more power over anything, nothing except for my own fate. I returned to the street and began the slow journey back home.
Walking down the street in the gloomy night in the dark city, really got to me. The night felt like it was demanding something, which somehow I had to give.
I passed store after store and noticed nothing that really caught my interest. I was nearly home when again, something happened. Coming around the side of the building I noticed the two. There were the two men that had earlier beaten on that other man, clear as day. A surge of anger went through my body like a bolt of electricity. Before I knew it my hand reached for my gun, pulled it out, turned off the safety and put it behind my back. The two walked towards me and I towards them. It pulled back the hammer on the gun, and I continued to walk.
Closer we got, we were on a collision course, and I could feel it. By this time the two had saw me, and looked like they knew who I was, the man that witnessed their attack. I walked passed them, through the middle of them as they walked, we bumped shoulders and I think I heard something snide come out of one of them. Then it happened.
I heard something, and I think it said, “Help me”, but I wasn’t listening.
Opening my eyes I saw that the darkness was gone, the darkness of that day had became light again. I felt better. I tried to move my right arm but I was stopped by something, it felt cold against my skin like ice. I moved my left arm without much difficulty, I moved it up to my face and I felt something. I think it’s a tube. I looked down and noticed that there was an I.V. on my right arm, and that my right arm was also handcuffed to the bed. I think I’m in a hospital, but what happened to me? I laid there for another hour or so before I heard the door open. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I think there are two people out there; my hearing seems to be bad for reason.
“What … he do … himself?”
“… looks like … shot himself.”
“And … two … guys too?”
“Yeah, both … dead, he … four shots … each of them.”
“Why … he do …? … understand, … would he shoot two guys … then … himself, it doesn’t … sense … all.” Listening to the conversation was tough, I could barely hear anything, and trying to piece together the conversation was quite difficult.
“We’ll … ask … he … up, … what I saw, … just snapped, … witnesses … talked … two guys right … and BANG, … them both. … then … slight hesitation … shot himself.”
“What … drive a … do such … thing?”
“… you, I … know.” There was a pause for a minute, the two men, I think, stood over top of me, examining whatever wounds I had.
“… God, … bad wound, … amazing … survived, … deep it is, … through his head … .”
“… doctor said … , … probably only … a month or two …, … then, … go … trail … he did.”
“Pity.” I think I heard more hard footsteps as the two walked out of the room, had they been there or was I dreaming. And what had I done?
“As I walked, the streetlights flickered as the rain came down like the heavens were falling. No longer were they content with the acts of that night. There in the alleyway an old dilapidated fire escape ladder looked like it wanted an excuse to fall more than the building it was attached to. The rain funneled down the center of the alleyway into the sewer, where the corpse laid.
The corpse wore a soiled black trench coat with no waist tie. The man, on the other hand, wore this waist tie, tightly around his neck. The man’s pants were black as well, however soaked from the heavy night of rainfall. On his feet were men’s running shoes; they were nice shoes, which looked that they were brand new as of that day. Beside him laid a baseball cap, the cap didn’t have any writing on it, just red.
Flipping him over I saw a gash along his lifeless face that might of led to his demise. I looked up from the scene and I noticed a blood stain on the cast iron grating of an old exit door that had been dead bolted on the outside, so no one could get in, or out for that matter. Above the door flickered a neon light that illuminated the alley with its callous glow. The writing of the light said “Sal’s” which was a rundown nightclub for the vicious underworld of this ‘fair’ city. The regulars at this bar were nothing more than the bottom of the barrel as it comes to for human beings, not a decent one in the entire scrubby lot.
I got up and walked over to the barred door, I felt the blood, and it was still wet, like most things on that night. I glanced back at the corpse, hoping that it wouldn’t be there, unfortunately, I wasn’t that lucky. His still open eyes glanced up as the heavens fell upon him. So that’s when I called in to¼”
I couldn’t listen anymore. The man on the stand was speaking a rehearsed testimony, and I knew it smelled funny. I could have cared, but for some reason I didn’t. After everything I went through to get that snake in here, he was probably going to walk. That was what really made me mad. I couldn’t sit there and listen to that lying worm anymore.
I got up quietly and walked out of the courtroom, after the door closed behind me, I took a deep breath and looked outside. The sky hung low, like it was about to give out. The clouds as black as the night, moved silently and without hindrance throughout the sky. Might as well walk, it’ll be good for me.
I opened up the door to the courthouse and the foul reeking air struck me like a huge weight. I opened my eyes and saw the cityscape; the high towers seemed to reach on forever into the blackness of the day. I started down the stairs and looked away from the bums, the homeless and the peddlers. Their begging always got to me, like that drip in the night in when you’re trying to sleep. I looked at the ground, thinking of a time that was better, when I actually inspired to make a difference. That was a long time ago, almost too long to remember if I had made a difference or not. What had changed?
I walked more blocks through the progressively repulsive city, each second I spent in it made me sick to my stomach. I felt no longer in control; I left that once bright and inspiring side of myself a long time ago. Where it was now, was anyone’s guess.
I finally made it to my apartment, once the beacon of light in my life, now just another ratty place. After she left me the place lost its shimmer. She took the kids too, even though they hate her as much as I do. Funny how the courts work¼ I guess it wasn’t meant to be, her being six years younger than I was and all. Oh well, I’m not losing any sleep over it.
I wasn’t lucky enough to get in the door without something happening. Over to the left beside this tree, which had been struck by lighting sometime earlier that year and had subsequently burnt, there was some sort of scrap happening. There were two guys, kicking this other guy like there was no tomorrow. I got a good look at the two that were laying the beating, one wore a green jacket with some sort of writing on the arm, and a pare of jeans, really wore down, like he had been doing the sort of thing, beating people, for a long time. The other guy was bald, he wore some sort of army camo trench coat and army pants.
I began walking towards the fight, with my hand grasped on my gun, which was inside my coat. I was just about to put an end to the fight but right then a voice inside me said “No”. I stopped abruptly and made a commotion while doing it, the two beaters stopped and stared up at me, I got a really good look, like a camera went off in my head, two faces I’ll never forget.
I stood there looking on, the two looking back at me. Something inside me told me to do nothing and I listened. It made sense, the first thing that had made sense in a long while. The victim of the attack was lying on the ground, one arm on his chest, grasping his bloodless wounds, and the other reaching out for help. His head was arched back looking at me; in his eyes I saw desperation, almost like the absence inside me.
I stepped backwards, breaking eye contact with the fiends and turned away, I think in the back of my mind I might of heard ‘help me’, but I wasn’t listening. I walked into my apartment building, and got on the elevator. Listening to that repetitive music made me think of better times. Times where everything was normal, and I led a normal life. I had a lot of friends back then, but none of those ‘friends’, talked to me anymore. I couldn’t tell you why they didn’t talk to me but, that seemed like a time long ago, when everything was different, and I was happy.
The apartment wasn’t as nice as it used to be. The walls now had water stains on them from the time when the poor fool upstairs decided to kill himself with the toaster in a bathtub full of water. The rest of the place was your standard two-room apartment. Walking into the kitchen, it was cramped and smelt of bacon, all the time, the dim flicking fluorescent light was above, the stove looked like it came from hell and back, twice. Outside of the kitchen was a table with four chairs around it; on top of the table were two glasses and a plate of food from the night before. Looking over I can see the living room, TV and a couch with a painting above it. The painting was nothing in particular; it was a solid red background with a splash of black in the bottom right corner.
Walking over to the couch I picked up the converter and turned on the TV. It flickered on with the warm glow that could mean only relaxation. I sat down on the couch and watched. The news came on, the top story of that night was how that dirty snake got off, I just knew it would happen. All my work I had done, meant nothing now, the evidence I collected over the weeks of that investigation meant nothing, nothing. I turned off the TV, I was furious. I could do nothing however, nothing at all. I sat on the couch and dozed off.
I got up from the comforting couch and put on my burdening coat and began to walk slowly. I knew where I was going, but I didn’t want to go. I was going to the crime scene, the place where I put my time in, investigating. I shuffled across block after block of gloomy cityscape. The darkness was not only above, but also everywhere now.
Finally I stopped, right there, in front of Sal’s bar, the neon light out front signaled this with the glow that was so sharp it could pierce through anything, even one’s soul. The front windows were boarded up with plywood and I could here the music pulsating from inside. In front of the door, there was a bloodstain that didn’t look more than a couple days old. The blood seemed to run out the club like a living being. Continuing down the side of the club I came to the alleyway.
I scanned the alley with a watchful eye. I walked in slowly; it was just like how the ‘innocent’ described it. I walked to the barred door; the blood from the murder hadn’t been cleaned off yet and had stained itself on the iron bars. It was never coming off, a grim reminder of what happened that night. I had no more power over anything, nothing except for my own fate. I returned to the street and began the slow journey back home.
Walking down the street in the gloomy night in the dark city, really got to me. The night felt like it was demanding something, which somehow I had to give.
I passed store after store and noticed nothing that really caught my interest. I was nearly home when again, something happened. Coming around the side of the building I noticed the two. There were the two men that had earlier beaten on that other man, clear as day. A surge of anger went through my body like a bolt of electricity. Before I knew it my hand reached for my gun, pulled it out, turned off the safety and put it behind my back. The two walked towards me and I towards them. It pulled back the hammer on the gun, and I continued to walk.
Closer we got, we were on a collision course, and I could feel it. By this time the two had saw me, and looked like they knew who I was, the man that witnessed their attack. I walked passed them, through the middle of them as they walked, we bumped shoulders and I think I heard something snide come out of one of them. Then it happened.
I heard something, and I think it said, “Help me”, but I wasn’t listening.
Opening my eyes I saw that the darkness was gone, the darkness of that day had became light again. I felt better. I tried to move my right arm but I was stopped by something, it felt cold against my skin like ice. I moved my left arm without much difficulty, I moved it up to my face and I felt something. I think it’s a tube. I looked down and noticed that there was an I.V. on my right arm, and that my right arm was also handcuffed to the bed. I think I’m in a hospital, but what happened to me? I laid there for another hour or so before I heard the door open. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I think there are two people out there; my hearing seems to be bad for reason.
“What … he do … himself?”
“… looks like … shot himself.”
“And … two … guys too?”
“Yeah, both … dead, he … four shots … each of them.”
“Why … he do …? … understand, … would he shoot two guys … then … himself, it doesn’t … sense … all.” Listening to the conversation was tough, I could barely hear anything, and trying to piece together the conversation was quite difficult.
“We’ll … ask … he … up, … what I saw, … just snapped, … witnesses … talked … two guys right … and BANG, … them both. … then … slight hesitation … shot himself.”
“What … drive a … do such … thing?”
“… you, I … know.” There was a pause for a minute, the two men, I think, stood over top of me, examining whatever wounds I had.
“… God, … bad wound, … amazing … survived, … deep it is, … through his head … .”
“… doctor said … , … probably only … a month or two …, … then, … go … trail … he did.”
“Pity.” I think I heard more hard footsteps as the two walked out of the room, had they been there or was I dreaming. And what had I done?