The Empty Syringe

Chapter One

Most murder stories start in an alleyway at night. Or a hunted house on a deserted hill.
But this story is different.
In this story, it starts on a bright, sunny Saturday morning...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The early morning rays of sun were just starting to seep through the gaps in Amy's curtains. The dark shadows on the walls started to disfigure and morph into eerie shapes as the sun worked its way around the room. Amy tiredly started to work her eyes open and sat upright. Half asleep. She slipped out of bed and got into her usual clothes. A baggy, grey jumper and some slim, black jeans. The dark clothes complemented her flowing auburn hair as she lighting glided down the stairs into the kitchen where she made herself some breakfast.

After she had eaten, she heard someone knock on the door. She walked up to the door and opened it to see the postman. He handed her a newspaper which Amy took with glee as she thanked him and closed the door. Amy practically skipped down the hall to her living room before sitting down on the dark leather sofa. She opened it up excitedly to see what news there was today. Most people wouldn't bother reading the newspaper considering that nowadays almost everyone has a phone, but Amy loved to see was going on. Instead of going to the sports page or the puzzles page, Amy just looked at the front page, looking for something interesting. This is where Amy is different. As most average 14 year old girls loved looking at 'Hot Boys' or messing around with makeup, Amy loved to read about murders. Crimes which were so crazy they still haven't been solved.

Just as Amy started to find some juicy crime stories, her Mum walked down stairs.
"Morning dear!" Amy's Mum said cheerfully as she headed towards the kitchen. "Have you had breakfast?"
Amy gave a groan, embarrassed, she answered.

"Yes. Of course I have Susan." Amy said with an ignorant tone.

She hated calling her mother 'mum' or 'mother'. What was the point? Susan was her name so she thought she might as well use it. Amy never understood why children made up pathetic nick-names for their parents.

"I was just asking" Susan replied, rolling her eyes. "I heard there was a murder. Some kids found with bashed in heads on a roadside."

"Ugh! Borinnnggg! Their parents were probably drunk or something. I want something more interesting. Something that actually makes you think." Amy complained. Her mother didn't really like her daughters hobby. All these murders gave her the shivers but, its what her daughter wanted so of course she went along with it.

"Here," Susan passed Amy a dog lead that had been hanging on the front door handle. It was an dark shade of red, the same colour of blood. "You might as well take the dog out."

Amy took the lead looking confused, "Ugh Susan, you do remember that we don't have a dog anymore right? There are still remains of him squirted on the bathroom door. That should be enough the remind you." Amy placed the lead next to her on the sofa, feeling slighting guilty since she was the one who had sent the poor beast to rest. One of her experiments had gone wrong, very wrong to be honest.

"Oh yeah... I forgot. Bless his soul. What were you trying to do anyway?" Susan asked, trying to make conversation but getting completely ignored. Amy had already switched her attention back to the newspaper to look at the case she had been reading about.