3am ramblings
Ok so last night at 3am I couldn't sleep. I didn't feel like walking back up stairs to turn my computer on. I ended up writing. Below is what I wrote before I got sleepy.
She stumbled blindly down the street trying to get away from the terro racing through her mind. Never in her yound life had she seen anything so ghastly. The brutality of it was beyond her comprehension.
She knew she had to hide. It was only time before they came after her. She didn't know of any place she would be safe.
As she was fleeing, fog started rolling in off the bay likfe a predator looking for its prey. It made the night even more fiercesome then it already was.
Her lungs were aflame from running. She was tiring quickly. He body was not used to such feats of athletecism. Yet, if she stopped they would get her too.
She had never known the true identities of those who claimed her husband's life. All Bella knew was that she had seen them before. Each time she saw them, someone was brutally murdered. This time they took John.
The images of blood and his dismembered body kept racing through her mind. She was supposed to be home with him. She was supposed to be there.
She had been down at the market buying fresh food for dinner. While she was there, she ran into Viola. Lately it seems that their lives never gave them much chance to spend time together. So she went to Viola's house to share a cup of tea and some gossip. It was a nice afternoon. So idyllic in a sense. They had been friends all of their lives. There wasn't anything that they didn't share. Anything, except for the secret that Bella was harboring about those men. She was afraid to tell Viola.
After a nice refreshing afternoon with her friend, she strolled home humming to herself. It was the very fact that she was at Viola's that saved her very life. Normally she would have been home at that time of day. Now that she thinks about it more, what was John doing home from work so early. The factory never let anyone leave early. Had he come home sick? Had he been laid off? She may never have the chance to know now.
Why had they come after her? Had they seen her at the last killing? Who were these people? She had to find out. It was her only chance at survival.
She rounded the corner onto Cook Street and plowed into a very dapper young man. When she started to run off, he grabbed her arm preventing her from fleeing.
She stumbled blindly down the street trying to get away from the terro racing through her mind. Never in her yound life had she seen anything so ghastly. The brutality of it was beyond her comprehension.
She knew she had to hide. It was only time before they came after her. She didn't know of any place she would be safe.
As she was fleeing, fog started rolling in off the bay likfe a predator looking for its prey. It made the night even more fiercesome then it already was.
Her lungs were aflame from running. She was tiring quickly. He body was not used to such feats of athletecism. Yet, if she stopped they would get her too.
She had never known the true identities of those who claimed her husband's life. All Bella knew was that she had seen them before. Each time she saw them, someone was brutally murdered. This time they took John.
The images of blood and his dismembered body kept racing through her mind. She was supposed to be home with him. She was supposed to be there.
She had been down at the market buying fresh food for dinner. While she was there, she ran into Viola. Lately it seems that their lives never gave them much chance to spend time together. So she went to Viola's house to share a cup of tea and some gossip. It was a nice afternoon. So idyllic in a sense. They had been friends all of their lives. There wasn't anything that they didn't share. Anything, except for the secret that Bella was harboring about those men. She was afraid to tell Viola.
After a nice refreshing afternoon with her friend, she strolled home humming to herself. It was the very fact that she was at Viola's that saved her very life. Normally she would have been home at that time of day. Now that she thinks about it more, what was John doing home from work so early. The factory never let anyone leave early. Had he come home sick? Had he been laid off? She may never have the chance to know now.
Why had they come after her? Had they seen her at the last killing? Who were these people? She had to find out. It was her only chance at survival.
She rounded the corner onto Cook Street and plowed into a very dapper young man. When she started to run off, he grabbed her arm preventing her from fleeing.
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