The Killing on Parsippany Road

The Killing on Parsippany Road [1]

This is a new story I'm working on- though I'm still continuing with my other story. :)

this one may be a little graphic, though not quite- it's about a murder, and here is the little 'teaser'.

hope you enjoy! :D (I've literally wrote only two pages, so if you guys like it, i'll probably upload again either later this week, or early next week)

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The day I died, I felt something I had never felt before. I felt distance- betrayal; as I stared up at my killers cold eyes. His dark, heartless black souls that sucked the life away from me while I was still unaware. I felt the penetrating wounds caused by the cold knife in his wrinkled hand, and the fabric of his black gloves as they rubbed up against my sides.

I felt my tears stream down my face, bringing along all the regrets I've ever had, and the happiest moments in my life that I swore I would never forget. I felt my fingertips growing cold, as I tried to grasp onto the ledge to keep myself above water. I felt my body ache, and I screamed in agony as I was surrounded in my own blood.

I felt my self scream out for help, as a man stood above the ledge, crossing his arms across his black sweatshirt as he stared down at me. His cold, metallic knife shined with the coat of my ruby-red blood. And as I counted the drops of blood that dripped onto the concrete ground, my fingers rubbed against the wounds on my stomach, realizing it was all real.

My killer stood above water, watching me slowly slip off of the pools ledge, and scramble to grasp onto something strong enough to hold me up. He had pride in himself- he killed to fill the empty gaps in his heart. I wasn't his first, nor last. The way my killer satisfied himself, was by living in the moments of his greatest kills.

I never knew he was going to keep my drenched sneakers, and fish them out of the pool once my body surfaced, face-down. I never knew he was going to turn me over, swipe the blood away from my face, then later that night burn the gloves he had worn while he watched me suffer.

I never knew I was going to become the next victim of murder in Parsippany Falls, on Parsippany Road.

My name is Clarissa Ryder, I am fourteen years old, and this is the story of my murder.