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Anderson stood with his back against the wall of the unit where the green dot had disappeared from. He was trying to steady his breathing. Adrenaline was coursing though his veins.
The cold gradually seeps through my weakened body. It takes hold of my mind, drys me up, touches me with its clammy hand. It scratches at my throat and brings tears to my eyes.
Liam sat on the opposite side of the room from me.
A boy walkes along the Regent street. He sees a little, little cat in a train. He can't understand what the cat are doing. So he takes the cat and walk the way home. Why not?.
Morris woke up. Her eyes taking a little time to adjust to the light. The room was large. The walls and floor seemed to be made from aluminium. The lights from the ceiling reflecting on every surface.
The briefing room back at the station was silent. Not one of the twenty five officers knew what to say when Anderson walked into the room. It had been a long night.
He sat on the sandy shore, waves breaking a few feet from the tips of his toes, and knew, then, how people could just disappear.
Time stood still. Everything around Roxy became a blur as she raced towards the pay phone, knowing that if she didn't reach it, she may never see her family again. How long had it been ringing.
"Carli, it's going to be okay," Elijah sobbed, as he ran his fingers through her thick blond hair, caressing her neck and shoulders as she lay across his lap, "It's okay.
"FREEZE. POLICE. PUT THE WEAPON DOWN" Stan heard those words and plunged his knife deep into Lucy's chest. Atleast now he was sure she was dead. Little bitch had ran from him.
Roxy raced to her car, reading the text as she went along. "Go to the gas station on Brooke street. There is a pay phone just next to it.
That moment. That moment when your life changes forever. In the space of ten minutes, Roxy's world was turned upside down.
The dusty cobbled steps screeched beneath my untamed nails as my paws gently pressed against the cool street.
Miranda Wood was channel six's local news reporter. It was her job to go out into town, and report back on all the exciting news going on. Sadly there was hardly ever any actual news.
Thought I'd start with a series. Hope you guys like it. -------------//----------------- "No!" I screamed. My friend laying there like that. All crumpled and... broken.
The colours dance. They always dance for me. The canvas comes alive, as we whirl in time to the rhythm of the universe. But the colours are unkind, harsh, immortal. I need the music.
A dead man walked the street. I'd seen him for myself, straggling along the pavement in the near-darkness, his long wet hair unkempt, sticking to his wrinkled skin, his clothes torn.
Chapter 7 - Bandages There was a blindingly obvious bandage attached to my face the next day. Atleast it covoured up the wound in the side of my head.
The sun was beating down hard. Looking up at the sky there wasn't a cloud to be seen. Newport Street was quiet and peaceful.
Anderson had gone home. It had been a long couple of days. He had managed five hours sleep, and had started to feel a little more human.
"Stop!" I hear someone say behind me as I'm about to drag the sharp blade across my skin again. I look up into the mirror and see Tate's reflection staring back at me.
It's was strange how they looked at each other, almost humorous, their eyes bulging out of their sockets, like a freeze frame at the moment of shock.
Chapter 6 - I was young; a lost soul. Since mum had fucked off I was sitting at home again by myself mutilating dolls as I always do.
His voice echoes in the dark night. I wince. I can recognize the way he breathes. "Tristan?" I cry out. He doesn't respond. I know he's here, and not for the reason I pray he is.