Suspect - V - Wattpad

Story cover for Suspect by GraveDangerV

Suspect

Reads 11
Votes 2
Parts 2
Time <5 mins

Reads 11
Votes 2
Parts 2
Time <5 mins

Mature

Love is a painful thing... especially when the person you love- doesn't love you back. Did anyone ever tell you to never judge a book by the cover? Well it doesn't matter... I can't be loved inside and out. I've been accused of so many things and the one person I thought would understand- doesn't. Now I can't be loved- she won't love me... 

-

I'm a suspect of murder.

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But I'm a slave to her love.

-

There's no escape both ways... and that's the hardest. 

---

I held the gun tightly to my chest, blood pumping in my ears. I listen intensely to my surroundings. All I hear are the screams of the people dying slowly. I'm not a bad guy, i'm just a guy who is attending his job... And doing it well. I dash around the corner and aim or his heart, which aims perfectly where I needed it to be. The bullet slashed through his chest and exits without a complication.

I nod at boss mans assistant and he grabs the money, in which he stashes it into the bag.
I smirk, knowing the plan is going to go perfectly through.

Me and the assistant are leaving but right when we're about to leave, we both see someone from the shooting escaping...All Rights Reserved

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Saved By a Stranger

No one stopped to look. No one glanced in the alley I cried in. I was tired of this place, so tired of the endless days that stretched out before me. The emptiness in my heart was eating me alive, with no end in sight. My own darkness was swallowing me whole and leaving nothing alive. The tears froze on my bright red cheeks. I was tired of feeling so broken, but most of all I was tired of being so alone. I pulled out the cold heavy weapon from my coat and stared at it. "If someone would look this way," I thought, "If someone would just glance at me and see my pain. I won't do it." There was a man standing in front of me. After he removed the single bullet from my pistol, he handed it back to me, and left. I followed the man at a distance back to his apartment. He knew that I had followed him and waited at the door to let me in. For reasons I cannot explain I entered his tiny apartment. I fell asleep at the table playing with the bullet and woke up to my alarm the following morning. There was a pillow beneath my head, a blanket over my shoulders, and a note that read: "Dear Stranger..."