Ap English 3 Year 11 Creative Writing

The moon was the only witness, along with the stars. They were the only ones that would know, and they wouldn 't tell. The ground was moist from the rain that had come early in the morning, and by the fog that stayed since then. The shovel scraping against stray rocks in the ground was too loud, and I feared that someone would hear. The hole in the ground looked like a bottomless pit, where no one would ever find a body. The worst part was near. To put the corpse in. The metallic smell of blood, and the early signs of decomposing. The worst was their eyes. Those grey eyes that were left of life. No one will have to see those eyes again, because they will forever be under the rich dirt.

Posters were hung up a week later. "Missing

My house, the one with the brown shingles and the wood that needed so badly to be painted. The one where many people had been for party 's, the one where some people never returned from.

When the quiet chime of the doorbell finally called out to me, my fear began to rise. This time, would they actually catch me? I wiped the fearful look off my face and put on my mask that I wore so well. This time, it was depressed. Confused. I calmly walked to the door, and listened to the creaking of the hinges when it opened. Focus, this is an act, only an act, and you are the star. You will fool them all. The talk was agonizing, painful even. With every question, every glance, I wanted to tell. I wanted to run out to the streets and scream it out to the world that their neighbor was killed by me. By their friend. Just a second before I did, the police got up quickly. "Thank you for your time ma 'am, we are very sorry about your neighbor." So am I, so am I.

Year by year, I was never questioned for a second time, never even considered to be the one who had taken all of those peoples lives. I got away, and those people let me. They let a murder loose. And I 'm perfectly okay with