loves me, loves me not (female)

Chapter 1

I always have wondered how I would start a story. Whether the main character would make a witty joke or a sarcastic comment. Or whether the side character would show it's true colours. The beginning of the story is the most important, as is the end. Never leave a reader unsatisfied, that's what I got told. Always leave surprises and mysteries. Things to look back on.

5th December

"NOOOO!" I screamed at the corpse laying in my arms. It couldn't be, it couldn't. As I dropped the body I stood to my feet and ran to the phone. I dialled '999' as quick as I possibly could. They could still save him, they could if they tried hard enough. As the phone kept ringing the anxiety grew. But then the monotone voice boomed through the microphone, "999 what's your emergency" and without leaving a second to breath, I shouted into the phone, " It can't be, HELP! He isn't breathing and I just- I just came back from work and I- I had to stay late for a case so I was home later and I came home and you know, go into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine and I look forward while taking a sip and he is there just bleeding himself out! Help him!" A short pause came from the other end, was I acting anxious enough?

"What's the address ma'am" the voice spoke, I wonder what she looks like, might be pretty never know. " 6b Godric's lane, the one with the red door." I wonder what they are thinking, will they believe me. The knife I used was very specific, one of a kind. Do you think the detectives will finally be smart and know it's me or will they give me the sympathy card and go chasing after some man who isn't even alive anymore? Yes, I am a detective and one thing I never get to know is why do murderers make it too easy for me? Why self yourselves out? It's easy to hide a murder, I've done it many other times before.

Many minutes after the police coming knocking at the door, but it seems more violent the more they have to wait. But an uncontrollable smile creeps onto my face as I think that he was foolish enough, he couldn't stand a chance. I am a goddess, he is a clown. But I hurriedly open with my eyes bloodshot from the salty tears staining my eyes. " Come in officers, come in," I welcome them in, worry slowly building upon my face again.

As a paramedic checked his pulse she shook her head with sorrow and signalled her co-workers for the bag. My heart stopped. He was actually dead. Once again, harsh tears ran down my burning face. Yes, it was my fault but still, we had so many memories that still held our history that I will keep close forever. It's hard losing someone who was close to you, even when it's your fault they are lost

The bag made near to no sound as it was being zipped up, sympathetic looks and low toned sorry were being passed out and the police promised they would keep in contact and would work on the case. But they won't find the culprit, or just the wrong one. Which would be a complete downfall in their carrier as sentencing an innocent person for murder is heavy, and damaging to the community. But flip a card and it's a win for the community, another game of luck. You see?