The murder mysteries

Murderer's P.O.V

All was quiet. All was still. I looked from my window into the darkness. I dropped my torch down, down. It landed heavily with a thud on the damp mud below.

Yes I'm going through with this, I thought as I swung my legs out into the cold, rain splattering my face. My hands gripped the cold plastic pipe and I began to climb down...

A while later, I was slipping through the dark courtyards of the empty school. I had a vague idea of where I was headed, but was still unsure. I knew what I was thinking of doing was wrong-evil-but I didn't care.

My feet would've splatted in each of the giant puddles along the many concrete paths, except I took my time in carefully not making a sound. I couldn't risk being caught. I knew the costs for disobeying the strict rules at school. And I definitely knew the costs for what I was about to do...

Suddenly, I stopped. I glanced up at the sky; no light got through the thick grey clouds. And, more importantly to me, another drainpipe lead up to another window: a typical window around here, off-white coloured plastic bordering the layer of glass. Behind, were thick curtains; pale beige with brown flowers, just like every curtain around in school.

I stretched my arm as high up the plastic tube as possible before pulling myself up. My feet tightened around the pipe as my hands reached higher. The walls scratched my fingers, but I ignored it as best I could. Hand over hand, i made my way up the wall, keeping as close to it as I could as to stay in the shadows more. No one can identify me.

Finally, I was at the top. I pulled out a hairpin and fumbled with the lock. I nearly laughed. Over the past few years, I've consistently got decent grades yet I'm the least skilled person in everything else. Eventually, I heard a click! I knew it was coming, yet it still took me by surprise. I stifled a yelp as I jumped, very nearly falling-to my death-from the windowsill. The handle on the window was wet from the rain, and I knew how lucky I was to have not slipped.

I let out a breath as I regained my balance, then I returned to the task at hand. Slowly, and without a sound, I lifted the window until there was a big enough space for me to slip under it and into the warm room. Now there's no going back, I thought as I slipped through the curtains...

Looking around the room, I doubted myself; can I really expect to get away with this? There were five beds at the sides of the rooms, decorated with personal touches; each with a small, battered chest of draws next to them. I glided over to a pink bed in the far corner, in which lay a thin third-former with long golden plaits and a small, pink smile. Her face was scattered in freckles and her eyelashes were long and dark. She was the picture of beauty.

For a while, I stood there, hypnotised by how cute she looked. Can I really believe I'm capable of what I was planning?
But then the anger arose. She's not so gorgeous-she's the devil!

I want to kill her so badly!

With that, I pulled out my knife. How should I go about this? I rested the blade on her fair skin and slashed across, my hand harshly keeping her mouth shut. The light caught the blood, which gleamed in the moonlight. Now lying in the bed is a human corpse. Still just as pretty but not so lethal.

I retraced my footsteps to the window; I climbed out, shutting it behind me. And then vanished into the night...